Baby, It's Cold Outside
by Addie Logan
Summary: Spike and Buffy stuck together for Christmas… (Can anyone say warm, fuzzy holiday fluff? Complete
1. Chapter One

Disclaimer: I don't own _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_. But if I stayed off the Naught List this year, maybe Santa will put a Spike under my tree… "I Know What I Want for Christmas" is George Strait.

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Spike and Buffy stuck together for Christmas… (Can anyone say warm fuzzy holiday fluff?)

Spoilers: Up through "Hush"

Author's Note: This story takes place sorta between "Hush" and "Doomed," even though the beginning of "Doomed" is like five seconds after "Hush." So, it's in some imaginary block of time after the discussion Buffy and Riley have in her dorm room. And after that, it's all off-canon from there. And for this fic, Spike has yet to find out he can hit a demon, and he never moved out of Giles's apartment. He went back after Olivia left. Everyone clear on that? Good.

Also, this fic is total fluff. I felt like writing a warm and fuzzy holiday fic just cause. Hope you like it. :)

Feedback and Archiving: Feedback is the gift that keeps on giving. As for archiving, I usually allow it, just let me know before you post anything of mine. I like to know where my stuff is.

* * *

Baby, It's Cold Outside

By: Addie Logan

* * *

**_This the season for generosity  
A time to give and to receive  
My Christmas list consists of just one sweet dream.... _**

I know what I want for Christmas this year  
I hope my note got to Santa on time  
I'm a little bit nervous,  
It's kind of a big thing I'm asking for  
I don't know if I deserve it but, boy, if I get it  
I'll never ask for anything more  
It shines, it's new  
And it's the one wish that I wish would come true  
This year for Christmas I just wanna be with you

We can build a little fire  
We can sit and talk for hours  
We'll just have fun  
You can tell me what you did  
Christmas morning as a kid  
And we'll talk about all our Christmases to come

And if I hang a little mistletoe in every single doorway  
I'm sure to get a kiss  
And is it too much to ask for a snowman kind of snow  
To complete this singular wish?  
It shines, it's new  
I know what I want and nothin' else will do  
This year for Christmas I just want to be with you

* * *

"He is _not_ coming with us. It's ridiculous!"

Joyce Summers planted her hands firmly on her hips. "Buffy, it's Christmas. You can't just leave him all by himself on Christmas."

"Mom, he's a _vampire_. You know—all evil and unholy. I don't think they even celebrate Christmas. It's like Halloween to the uber-Fundamentalists, only in reverse."

"Spike is coming with us, and that's final."

"But, Mom…" Buffy whined.

"No 'but, Mom's,'" Joyce snapped, giving her daughter the one look in the world that could instill fear into the heart of the Chosen One. "You may be the Slayer, young lady, but I am still your mother, and we will do things in this household my way."

"Fine. You want to spend Christmas with Spike, you go right ahead—but count me out."

"Oh no. You are not going to get away with that," Joyce said, recognizing Buffy's ploy for what it was. Joyce knew Buffy wouldn't willingly leave her mother alone with a vampire, albeit a chipped one.

"I'm not spending Christmas with _him_."

"Then where will he go? Willow and Xander are both spending the holidays with their families, and Giles is going back to England."

"I know. We worked the Spike situation out already, so you don't have to worry about it."

"And how exactly did you 'work it out?'"

Buffy looked down, knowing her mother was not going to like what she was about to say. "We were gonna keep him chained in Giles's bathtub."

"What! Buffy, that's cruel!"

Buffy looked back up. "So what? Mom, it's Spike—the evil vampire who's tried to kill me _how_ many times now? Do you really care that much about someone who has tried to kill your only child?" Buffy gave Joyce her best "pity me" eyes.

"I also remember him helping you save the world."

Buffy gaped for a moment before replying with, "Well, that was just to save his crazy girlfriend."

"Buffy, you wouldn't leave a dog chained to a bathtub for a week like you're planning to do with Spike. If anything, it's inhumane."

"Yeah, so is slaughtering half of Europe. Besides, I like dogs way better than I like Spike anyway. Even the yippie ones."

"Buffy! I can't believe you could be so cold! Where's your Christmas spirit?"

"Not extending itself to evil vampires with bad bleach jobs?"

"Honey, you know how fidgety Spike gets. He'll be bored out of his mind chained up for that long."

"We'll leave a television in there. As long as he can watch _Passions_ he'll be fine." Buffy rolled her eyes.

"And how will he eat?"

"You know, making sure an evil vampire can get blood—really not on the top of my priorities list."

Joyce could see she wasn't going to win Buffy over this way and decided to switch tactics. "What if he breaks free?"

"Huh?"

"What if he breaks free when all of you are gone? Then what?"

"They're really strong chains."

"Don't vampires have super strength? If he pulls at them for a whole week…"

"Yeah, but…" Buffy looked up at her mother defiantly. "So what if he does break free? He has that chip in his head, so it's not like he can hurt anyone."

"Do you have any guarantee that the chip won't stop working? What if he gets out, the chip breaks, and then he goes on a killing spree because you weren't there to keep an eye on him? Isn't that your duty as the Slayer—to make sure things like that don't happen?"

Buffy's jaw dropped. How could her old stand-by of "it's my sacred Slayer duty" be working _against_ her? "That's not fair!"

"Isn't that what you're always saying—you're the Slayer, so nothing in your life is ever fair?"

Buffy knew her mother had her now—and that she had a point. What if Spike _did_ find a way to pull off a killing spree while she was gone? Those deaths would be on her hands. She crossed her arms in front of her. "Fine, Spike can come. But don't blame me when it's the worst Christmas ever."

Joyce ignored the last part of her daughter's statement. "Great! Now let's go to the mall and buy him presents."

Buffy stared, eyes bugged, as Joyce walked out of the room. "Mom!"

* * *

"I don't see why we had to wait until tonight to come up here. It was a waste of a day," Buffy said as she lugged her bags into the dark cabin. "I can't see anything, and it's cold."

"We couldn't exactly drive up here during the day with Spike in the car," Joyce said, turning on the lights.

"Why not? If he was a big pile of dust we wouldn't have to worry about what to do with him this week."

"Buffy! Spike is our guest, and we do not talk about wanting our guests to catch on fire."

"Yeah, Buffy," Spike piped up from beside her. "Don't want to embarrass your mother by making it look like she didn't teach you how to treat a guest."

"Mom! He's taunting me!"

"Well, he has a point, dear," Joyce replied.

"Ugh. I can't believe you two are ganging up on me."

"Well, we wouldn't be if you weren't being such a Scrooge." Joyce brought her things into one of the bedrooms and then came back out. She put her hand on Spike's arm. "Come on. Let's go to the kitchen, and I'll make hot chocolate."

Spike gave her a sweet, hopeful expression. "With little marshmallows?"

"Of course, honey."

Buffy threw her arms up in disgust as her mother walked off with the vampire. Why she didn't' seem to realize Spike was no more than a bloodthirsty animal was beyond Buffy's realm of comprehension.

The Slayer sat on the couch, arm crossed in front of her, and pouted.

"I'm sorry my daughter is being such a grinch," Joyce said as she sprinkled tiny marshmallows into Spike's hot chocolate.

"It's all right, Joyce. I did try to kill her a few times, after all."

"Well, so did that _Angel_, and she certainly didn't treat him like this." Spike smirked at the loathing Joyce put into saying the name of his grandsire. He'd always known that woman had good taste. "Besides, you're harmless now," Joyce continued. "There's no reason for her to treat you like you're the enemy anymore."

"I'm not harmless," Spike muttered, staring into his hot chocolate. "Soon as I get this chip out, I'm killing everyone in Sunnydale." He looked up sharply. "Oh, except you, Joyce. You're a real nice lady. I wouldn't bite you."

"I know, Spike." She paused for a second. "I don't feel afraid with you at all. I never did really, not even before."

Normally, Spike would hate to hear anyone tell him something like that, but not Joyce. It made him happy to know she trusted him. He liked the woman—she reminded him a little of his own mother. "I wouldn't hurt you." The next words were out of his mouth before he had any chance to stop them. "Wouldn't let anyone else hurt you either."

Joyce smiled warmly and gave Spike a motherly pat on the head. "I think you put too much into the whole 'being evil' thing."

"It's what I am."

"Maybe it's just what you _were_. You know, if you were a little nicer to Buffy's friends—didn't talk about wanting to kill them so much—maybe they'd be nicer to you, too."

"I don't wanna be nice to them. Stupid Scoobies. Ruined everything, they did. Things were fine until bloody Sunnyhell."

"Well, you know, Spike, you're the one who decided to come to Sunnydale. What did you expect them to do—just let you kill them?"

"Well, yeah. Would've been nice." He paused for a second, then added, "'Cept maybe for Buffy. She was always fun to have a good tussle with. Not like the other Slayers I fought. She's got a real fire to her, y'know. Puts it in every move she makes—every punch, every kick. Don't think I've ever met anyone quite like Buffy."

Joyce watched the vampire as he talked about her daughter, noticing the gleam in his eye. She'd been around enough to know what that meant and wondered if Spike was aware of it himself. "Are you sure you really hate her, Spike?" Joyce asked. "Maybe now that you can't kill people anymore, you could help her out. You might find you like not being evil."

"No, I like being evil. Besides, with this chip, I'm useless in a fight. All I can do is depend on the 'hospitality' of your daughter and her soddin' friends." Spike hung his head. "I'm pathetic."

Joyce patted Spike on the arm. "You're not pathetic. And even if you can't fight, I'm sure there are other things you can do. Buffy's always talking about needing to do research. I bet being a vampire for so long gave you all sorts of insights into the demon world that could help them."

"They don't need me for that. Xander's got himself a one-thousand year old ex-vengeance demon for a girlfriend."

Joyce frowned. "What is it with him and demon girls? Buffy's told me about some of his little dating fiascos."

"Anya's an all right bird," Spike said. "Speaks her mind. I like that in a person. Don't know what she sees in the whelp, though. Could do better."

"Xander's a good boy…for the most part." Joyce lowered her voice. "His home life's really bad, you know. Most of his behavior is defensive on his part, I believe."

"Yeah, I got to meet Mr. and Mrs. Whelp when Giles sent me away to spend 'quality time' with his lady friend. Anyway, they were worse than their little wanker spawn."

Joyce bristled for a second. "Giles has a girlfriend?"

"Did. I think they broke up when she saw a demon. Giles kept trying to call her, but she wouldn't talk to him." Spike grinned. "Watchin' them is almost better than the stories on the telly—especially Buffy and whatever her angst-ridden love affair of the moment is. You should've seen her when she realized she'd told the latest one about our engagement. Bloody priceless, it was."

"Buffy has a boyfriend? And wait—did you just say you're engaged? Did I miss something?"

"Slayer didn't fill you in on those little bits of info, huh? Don't know much about her latest other than he's got some nancy-boy name—Riley, I think. And as for the 'engagement,' it was just one of Willow's spells gone wonky. But yeah, for a day I was almost your son-in-law."

Even if it was only because of a spell, Joyce was surprised to think of Spike and Buffy ever being together. "Did you hate each other then?"

"No. Spell made us all lovey-dovey, with the kissing, and the whispering, and whatnot. The Slayer spent most of the day curled up in my lap." Spike stared back down into his mostly-empty cup of hot chocolate. "Bloody awful it was."

Joyce gave a knowing smirk. Spike's subtle body language was giving more away than he wanted it to. "I'm sure it was."

"She might have forgotten that one. Was saying something to the witch about a forgetting spell."

"But you didn't forget it seems."

"How could I? I was stuck with Buffy taste in my mouth for days."

Spike turned away from her, and Joyce could've sworn she saw a blush. Did vampire's blush? She stood up, patting Spike on the head. "You finish your hot chocolate, and I'm going to go get the groceries from the car. Don't want anything going bad—even though it's probably cold enough out there to keep everything frozen all night." Joyce shivered. "I love the mountains, but they remind me of just how much of a Southern California girl I am."

"I can get them, Joyce," Spike offered. "Cold doesn't bother me."

"That's so nice at you Spike," Joyce handed him the car keys. "The grocery bags are in the back."

Spike gave her a nod and started out the cabin. Buffy jumped up running after him. "Where are you going? And with my mom's keys?"

"I knocked her out in the kitchen, and now I'm stealing the car and making my escape." Buffy looked at him in horror, and Spike rolled his eyes. "I'm getting the groceries from the back of the car."

"Why?"

"Because it's cold and there's no reason for your mum to be out there."

"I don't believe you. You're planning something."

"Oh come on, Slayer. What am I going to do? Besides, kinda got a sweet setup here. Least it's not the Watcher's tub."

"I'm not letting you go out there alone."

"Fine. Come out with me. Freeze your skinny little arse off. See if I care."

"I'll be fine."

Almost as soon as they were out the door, Buffy's teeth started chattering. "You know, Slayer, you could go back in, I can handle the groceries by myself."

"I'm not letting you out of my sight, Spike."

"Suit yourself." Spike opened the back of the car, reaching in for the grocery bags. Buffy grabbed as many as she could, not letting Spike carry more than her. "Trying to prove something, Slayer?" Spike asked.

"Just get back in the house."

"Are you cold?"

"No." Buffy shivered.

"Right." Spike slammed the hatch shut. "Lead the way, Goldilocks."

"Call me that again, and I stake you," Buffy snapped. "And you're walking in front of me. I don't trust you behind me."

Spike sighed and walked back into the house, Buffy in tow.

* * *

Buffy was silent throughout dinner, glaring at Spike as he shared a pleasant dinner conversation with her mother. Buffy couldn't believe that her mother thought Spike was sincere. Didn't she know that he'd rip her throat out in a second if he could? But no, she was treating him like some sort of honored guest. She'd even bought him Wheat-a-Bix for his blood, explaining that she'd asked Giles if Spike ever ate anything other than blood that she should keep around the cabin.

Catering to Spike? Buffy couldn't comprehend it. Finally, Buffy couldn't take it anymore. She stood up from the table, pushing her chair under with a resounding thud. "I'm going to bed," she announced.

"Oh, honey, I meant to talk to you about that," Joyce said. "You're sleeping on the couch."

"What!"

"Well, the sun comes in rather strongly through that window in the morning, and I think it would be safer for Spike if we put him in the small bedroom. There's only the one window, and it's easy to cover."

"I am not sleeping on the couch! I don't care if he bursts into flames in the morning and burns the whole cabin down, I'm sleeping in a bed, and that's final!"

* * *

Buffy tossed and turned on the couch, unable to get comfortable. "Stupid vampire and his flammability," she muttered, yanking the covers with her as she rolled over again.

This was just all so wrong. This was her Christmas, dammit. She shouldn't have to spend it with _Spike_ of all people. And what was the deal with Spike and her mother?

"Can't sleep, Slayer?"

Buffy sat up. "Spike! What the hell are you doing up?"

"Vampire, remember. Sorta nocturnal. Heard you tossing and turning out here, thought you might still be awake."

"Yeah, well, I'm not exactly stuck with the most comfortable of sleeping arrangements."

"Try sleeping chained to a bathtub," Spike replied. "Way I see it, I deserve a week in a bed."

"You don't deserve anything but a stake through the chest. And what's with you and my mother?"

"What?"

"You. My mom. What's up?"

"Nothing's 'up,' Slayer."

"Why did you get the groceries tonight?"

"I told you, it was cold, and it made more sense for me to get them. Least I could do with Joyce letting me stay up here."

"That's a nice thing to do."

"Yeah, so?"

"You're not nice. And tonight at dinner. You two were like…buddies."

"You're mother's an interesting lady to talk to. And after being stuck with you lot I'm grateful for adult companionship. Well, at least the kind that doesn't mutter 'oh dear lord' every other second and then go to consult a book." He gave Buffy his most irritating smirk. "Besides, I love watching how annoyed it makes you."

"I knew it! I knew you had some sinister motive behind your actions."

Spike shrugged. "Have to get my evil in somewhere, even if it's just making sure the Slayer has her knickers in a twist."

"I really, really hate you."

"Mutual." Spike winked. "Sleep tight, pet."

Spike walked into the bedroom, leaving a fuming Slayer alone on the couch.

* * *

Let me know what you think of this one so far, and if you want more! 


	2. Chapter Two

Buffy felt like she hadn't been asleep ten minutes when she heard her mother calling her. She grumbled as she rolled over. "What?"

"I need you to help me get a Christmas tree. There's a nice farm up the road, but I doubt I can get one home by myself. Some of that Slayer strength would come in handy."

"Can it wait until later?"

"I'd really like to start filling this place with some Christmas cheer," Joyce replied.

"We can't have Christmas cheer in a couple of hours?" Buffy asked hopefully.

"No. We're having Christmas cheer right now. Get up."

Buffy mumbled to herself as she got off the couch. "You know, this could be considered a form of child abuse. And I think that couch is really a medieval torture device in disguise."

"Get dressed, Buffy."

Buffy started towards her mother's room where she'd left her suitcases, then stopped. "Mom, we can't leave now. Spike will be in the cabin all alone."

"Honey, I checked on Spike this morning. He's fine—sleeping."

"That's not what I meant. If we leave, he could escape."

"Into broad daylight with no shelter from the sun for miles?"

"Okay, maybe he couldn't escape. But he could still do something evil."

"Like what? There's not really a lot of 'evil' to be done around here."

"He could…" Buffy frowned, searching for something to say. "He could loosen the top of the salt shaker so if we use it, all the salt will dump out at once."

Joyce raised an eyebrow. "That's the best you can come up with?"

"Hey, that's pretty evil. Too much salt can kill you."

"Buffy, go get dressed."

Buffy grumbled as she made her way to the bedroom.

xxx xxx xxx

"How's this, Mom?" Buffy asked under the strain of the six foot tall evergreen.

"Not quite right. Maybe a little more to the left?"

Buffy muttered under her breath, trying to ignore the assault of pine needles in her face as she moved the tree. "Is this good?"

Joyce scrutinized the tree. "No, that's too far. Go back right again."

Buffy sighed, the tree swaying as she almost lost her balance. "Here?"

"Almost. Move up a bit. It's too close to that back wall."

Buffy tried moving the tree again, but this time she stumbled. The pine came crashing down, pinning Buffy beneath, her arms sticking out from either side. "Buffy!" Joyce yelled, running over to her. "Honey, are you okay?"

"I've had worse," Buffy replied from under the tree. "Think maybe you can help me?"

Joyce attempted to lift the tree, but managed only to drop it back on Buffy, who grunted in pain. Spike walked out of the bedroom, surveying the scene with amusement. "Need help?" he asked.

Buffy lay under the tree, humiliation filling her completely when she heard Spike's voice. If there was one thing worse than being trapped under a Christmas tree, it was being trapped under a Christmas tree _and_ having your mortal enemy see it.

"Spike! We didn't wake you, did we?" Joyce asked.

"Um, Mom, more important issues here than whether or not Spike got a good day's sleep."

Spike contained his laughter as he went over, easily lifting the tree off Buffy and setting it upright again. He made sure the stand was secure before turning back to Buffy, who was by this point covered in pine needles. "That's a nice look for you, Slayer."

"Drop dead, Spike."

"Too late, luv."

"Buffy!" Joyce snapped. "Spike just helped you! You apologize for being rude _and_ tell him thank you!"

"Mom! I am not apologizing or thanking Spike!"

"You do it right this instant, young lady!"

Buffy hung her head, unable to look Spike in the face. "I'm sorry and thank you."

"Apology accepted, Slayer. And you're welcome."

Buffy glanced up slightly, the fury in her eyes quite clear to the vampire. He smirked.

"Um, Joyce—is there any way to the kitchen that doesn't pass the picture window? It's a bit sunny for my tastes at the moment" Spike asked.

"Oh! I didn't even think about that!" Joyce replied. "Spike, I'm so sorry! Are you hungry?"

"A little, yeah."

"Don't worry about it. I'll go heat you up some blood right now. How hot do you like it?"

"Ninety eight point six."

"Of course. I'll be right back."

"Mom! You can't go fix a mug of blood for a vampire. It's just…wrong. Spike can wait until he can do it himself."

Spike turned to Buffy, running his tongue over his teeth. "Nothing you haven't done, pet." He winked.

"That…that was a spell!"

Joyce looked over at her daughter, her hands placed on her hips. "Buffy, as I've said before, Spike is our guest—and right now, our guest is hungry." She turned away from Buffy and smiled sweetly at Spike. "I'll have it for you in a minute, dear."

"Thanks Joyce."

Buffy threw her hands up in disgust. As her mother left the room, she turned to Spike. "You know, this isn't cute."

"What, your pine-fresh look?"

Buffy glared, angrily picking the needles off of her. "No. You pretending to like my mom."

"I do like your mom."

"You said last night your were harassing me."

Spike smiled. "Added bonus."

"Well, you're laying it on a little thick."

"Your point?"

"Almost everything in this cabin is made of wood, Spike. Maybe you should think about that."

"You should watch the threats, Slayer. Mum wouldn't approve."

The vampire and the Slayer stared at each other, their narrow gazes locked until Joyce walked out from the kitchen, carrying a mug with her. The design on the outside appeared to be a frowning Scrooge, but as the warm liquid inside heated it up, the image changed to a smiling Santa. "Here you go, Spike."

"Thank you, Joyce," Spike replied, taking the mug. "I really appreciate it."

"You're very welcome. Anything else I can get you?"

"No, this will be fine."

"I'm going to take a nap," Buffy announced, heading towards her mother's room. "In a bed. You two have a nice afternoon."

"I just don't know what's gotten into her," Joyce said as Buffy shut the door.

Spike smirked, drinking his blood.

xxx xxx xxx

By the time Buffy woke, the sun was down. She could hear Spike and her mother talking somewhere in the cabin, and she groaned. This would be bearable if Joyce would just let her keep Spike bound and gagged, but no. He was their "guest." Buffy figured it could have been somewhat funny if it wasn't so horrifying.

When Buffy entered the kitchen, she realized she had yet to know truly horrifying until that moment. Spike and her mother were…decorating Christmas cookies? "What are you doing?" Buffy asked, even though the answer was obvious.

"Spike's helping me with the cookies," Joyce replied.

"But I always do that," Buffy said in a pitiful voice.

"Well, you decided to sleep the day away," Joyce replied. "But you can help now if you want."

Buffy grumbled, sitting down at the table. It was easy to tell which cookies Spike had decorated. The Santa with fangs and black icing ridges on its forehead was a giveaway. "You do realize he's making cookies of evil, don't you?" Buffy asked.

"I think they're cute," Joyce said. "Very creative." She stood. "Why don't you help decorate the rest of them, Buffy? I need to take a shower. I think I have flour in my hair."

"I'd rather decorate them with you instead of him," Buffy replied.

"I'll be back out in a little bit," Joyce said, ignoring her daughter's angry muttering.

As soon as Joyce was out of the room, Spike grabbed a gingerbread man and began very carefully drawing on a face with icing. Buffy frowned as she realized what he was doing. Pointed hair, fangs, and a prominent brow… She hated to admit it, but it was a rather good cookie likeness of her ex-lover. Spike finished by writing "Peaches" across the cookie man's chest, then looked up at Buffy, an evil gleam in his eye. He ripped the head off with his teeth, giving her a smirk as he swallowed it.

"That's it!" Buffy yelled, leaping up and tackling Spike to the ground. She pulled a stake out from where, Spike wasn't sure, and held it above his heart. "I've had enough of you," she growled.

Just then, Joyce rushed into the kitchen. "Buffy! What are you doing?"

"He made an Angel cookie! And then he bit its head off!" Buffy frowned. "And weren't you in the shower?"

"I was about to be when I heard a commotion in the kitchen. Buffy, staking guests is not appropriate either."

"But, Mom! Angel cookie!"

Spike looked up at Joyce, his expression the very picture of innocence. "Buffy Anne Summers, get up this instant. If I come out of the shower to find you've hurt Spike, you are going to be in more trouble than you have ever been in your life. Do you understand me, young lady?"

Buffy got up, the stake disappearing again. "Yes," she mumbled.

"I didn't hear you."

"Yes!"

Joyce smiled. "Good. Now you two play nice." Joyce left the kitchen again.

"One of these days she's not going to be around to protect you."

"And one of these days this chip won't be around to protect _you_."

They glared at each other for a moment before both sitting down at the table and resuming the cookie decorating.

xxx xxx xxx

"It was horrible, Willow. I had to decorate a Christmas tree with Spike." Buffy frowned, twirling the phone cord around her fingers.

"Was he a total meanie about it?"

"No! That's the worst part! He's like the sweetest guy in the world with my mom around. He's all 'oh, let me get that Joyce' and 'oh, I love to help, Joyce.' It's driving me insane. Granted, that's exactly why he's doing it, but dammit, it's working!"

"I'm sorry, Buffy."

"And do you know what he did today? He made a gingerbread Angel and bit its head off!" Buffy frowned at the sound coming from the other end of the line. "Willow, are you laughing?"

"Sorry, Buffy, but that's kinda funny."

"It was mean, and he's causing me emotional distress and ruining my Christmas!"

"Have you tried ignoring him?"

"What?"

"He's doing it for attention, obviously. If you don't give it to him, maybe he'll stop."

"Willow, it's Spike. He's so annoying it's physically impossible to ignore him."

"Then I don't know what to tell you, Buffy. What's he doing right now?"

"Watching _It's a Wonderful Life_ with my mother."

"That's a scary thought."

"Tell me about it. Oh, did I mention I'm sleeping on the couch?"

"What?"

"Spike gets the bed. There's less sunlight in the bedroom, apparently."

"That does sound rather sucky. I know it doesn't help much, but I am sorry you're not having a good time."

"Thanks, Wills. And I'm sorry I've been bitch-a-lot Buffy, but grr. Spike has me totally at my limits. I don't think I've ever wanted to stake him so bad—and that's saying a lot."

"Just six more days, and you'll be Spikeless again."

"Oh believe me, I know. I'm counting down the seconds."

"It could be worse," Willow replied. "Your mom could be gone, and you could be stuck with just Spike."

"Oh god, Willow, don't say anything that horrible! Stuck up here with Spike—I'd end up like Jack Nicholson in _The Shining_." Buffy sighed. "Hey, I should probably go. Leaving Spike alone with my mom for too long creeps me out. I'm afraid I'm going to go out there and find them knitting stockings to hang over the fireplace."

"If that happens, call me and I'll work out some sort of emergency rescue."

"Thanks."

"And call me any time you need to vent a little. It helps with sanity-retention."

"Will do. Bye, Wills."

"Bye, Buffy."

xxx xxx xxx

Buffy stood, tapping her foot as the phone rang. Finally, there was a click on the other line and a mumbled word that could've been "hello." "Willow! Thank goodness you're home!"

"Buffy, it's six o'clock in the morning. Where else would I be?"

"Did you do another 'will be done' spell?"

"Huh?"

"Did you do another spell?"

"No. Why?"

"Because my mother is leaving!" Buffy exclaimed. "I'm going to be alone with Spike—just like you said last night on the phone!"

"What! Your mother is going to leave you alone with Spike for Christmas?"

"Not for Christmas. Just for a day, she says. Some sort of emergency at the gallery. But that's a whole day cooped up in here with Spike!"

"Buffy, I swear, I didn't do a spell. It's just a really unpleasant coincidence."

Buffy sighed, able to tell that Willow was indeed telling the truth. "It's official. Someone up there hates me."

"Look on the bright side—with your mother gone, you can spend a night sleeping in a bed instead of the couch."

"I guess that's something," Buffy grumbled.

"Um, now that we've established I didn't do any magicks, can I go back to sleep?" Willow asked.

"Yeah. Sorry for waking you."

"It's okay. Bye."

Before Buffy could say anything, the sound on the other end of the line switched from her best friend's voice to a dial tone. Buffy sighed, hanging up the phone. Slowly, she walked to the living room where her mother was preparing to leave. "Do you have to go?" Buffy asked.

"Yes. I'm really sorry, sweetie, but it'll only be a day. You'll be okay until I get back. You'll have Spike to keep you company."

"That's the problem."

"Honey, he's not that bad. If you'd just give him a chance…"

"I am _not_ giving Spike a chance. He is an evil, repulsive vampire. Maybe you don't see that, but I do."

"I'm just saying you should make the best of the situation, Buffy. Try not to be so negative."

"Not be so negative? I'm going to be stuck in here with my least favorite person _ever_."

Joyce slung her bag over her shoulder. "Be good, Buffy. Call me if you need anything." She kissed her daughter on the forehead.

"But, Mom…"

"Be good, Buffy!" Joyce said again before walking out the door and shutting it behind her.

Buffy slumped down on the couch. "Well, isn't this just the most craptastic Christmas ever."

xxx xxx xxx

When Spike came out into the living room that afternoon, Buffy was sitting on the couch, staring into the lit fireplace. "Whatcha thinking, Slayer? 'Fire pretty?'"

Buffy whipped around, obviously startled by the vampire's presence. "Go away, Spike."

"Where's your mum?"

"She had to go back to Sunnydale for the day. Something for the gallery. She'll be back some time tomorrow. And before you ask, I'm not getting your blood for you."

"Mum wouldn't like it if she came home to find out you let the guest go hungry…"

Buffy gaped. "So you'd what, tattle on me?"

Spike's only response was a grin. Buffy threw her arms up. "Fine. I'll get your damn blood. But I'm not making sure it's heated to human body temperature!"

Spike grinned wider as Buffy stormed off to the kitchen. A nice comfy cabin and the Slayer fetching his blood… Spike decided it was the best Christmas ever.

xxx xxx xxx

Reviews keep the chapters coming!


	3. Chapter Three

"The Grinch, huh?"

Buffy didn't turn away from the television as Spike walked in the room. "Mom only brought Christmas movies."

Spike sat on the couch, making sure to keep his distance from Buffy. "I always liked the Grinch. Well, except for the ending."

"What would you prefer—a Whoville massacre?"

"For starters."

Buffy sighed, putting the movie on pause and turning to look at Spike. "Why are you out here? If you're hungry, the sun's down, so you can walk to the kitchen without bursting into flames. Otherwise, you really don't need to be anywhere but the bedroom."

"I got bored. Come on, Buffy, you can at least let me watch the telly with you."

Maybe it was a bit of the season getting to her, or maybe it was just the fact that every time he called her by her real name it threw her a little, but Buffy decided she could probably concede that much. "Fine—but no talking."

"Right. I'll be quiet."

"I meant immediately, Spike."

Spike muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "bossy little bint," but quieted down at the look Buffy shot him.

The two sat stiff and silent, both trying to pretend the other wasn't there, but their self-conscious body language made it clear that they were quite aware of the fact that they weren't alone—and who they were with.

Just as the Grinch handed Cindy Lou Who her glass of water and sent her off to bed, Spike sat straight up, glancing around. "Slayer, pause the movie."

"What…"

"Pause the movie, dammit! I heard something."

As the image stilled on the screen, Buffy perked up, trying to see if she could hear what Spike was talking about. "I don't…"

"Shh! There it is again. Scratching. You don't hear it?"

"No. And it's probably just raccoons."

Buffy started to restart the movie, but Spike reached out, grabbing her hand to stop her. Buffy felt a thrill rush through her at his touch, cursing herself for not having Willow actually do a forgetting spell. Memories of her "engagement" to Spike were still way too fresh in her mind. "What's the big deal?" Buffy asked. She snatched her hand away. "And don't touch me."

Spike sniffed the air. "Doesn't smell like raccoons. Smells demony. Grab yourself a weapon, Slayer."

Buffy squinted, trying to peer through the dark glass of the picture window. "Are you sure? I don't see anything."

"No, I'm making it up for a lark," Spike replied sarcastically. "Look Slayer, unless you want to be demon meat, I suggest you go check it out."

Buffy got up on the couch, figuring as untrustworthy as Spike tended to be, she didn't have the luxury of ignoring his warning. She went into the bedroom, coming back a few minutes later with both a sword and a stake. "Don't need the stake, pet. It's not a vamp."

"The stake isn't for it."

Spike rolled his eyes. "Right then. What else would I get for trying to help you than death threats?"

Buffy ignored him, walking towards the back door. "Stay here. If there's going to be a fight, I don't need you getting in the way."

"Fine. Have fun hacking up the nasty."

Spike sat down on the couch, staring at the paused television screen. He tried not to think about the fact that the Slayer was outside, facing who knows what. Maybe she'd get killed, and he could have the cabin to himself.

The sound of the Slayer's scream pierce the silence of the cabin, and Spike jumped to his feet. Buffy was in trouble. Before his brain could tell him he didn't care, he ran outside, only to find her pinned to the ground by a rather large, furry demon.

"Oi! Get off the girl!" Spike yelled, hoping to distract the demon. It only looked at Spike for a moment, before turning back to Buffy, its massive paw raised to strike her with glistening claws. Spike immediately slipped to game face, launching himself on the demon and knocking it off Buffy and to the ground, pummeling it as he landed on top.

Suddenly, Spike stopped in mid-punch, realizing that even as he beat the creature into oblivion, his chip wasn't making the slightest protest. His feral-yellow eyes sparkled as he realized he was free to inflict as much pain on this guy as he wanted. Spike hit it a few more times before snapping its neck, roaring in triumph as he did. He stood, wiping blood off his face and grinning as the demon turned to ooze and spread out across the snow.

It wasn't until Spike heard Buffy whimper in pain that he remembered where he was. His face shifted back to its human appearance as he went to her, kneeling down to look her in the eyes. "Are you all right, Slayer?"

"I think so," Buffy replied, even as she winced in pain. "It dislocated my arm."

"Come on, pet, let's get you inside. I can fix that up." Buffy nodded, her arm hurting too much for her to argue. Spike helped her to her feet, letting her lean on him as they went back inside the cabin. Spike got her to the couch, and then asked. "Where's your first aid kit?"

"There's one in my stuff, in Mom's room," Buffy replied.

Spike went to the bedroom and coming back a few moments later, kit in hand. He knelt down in front of Buffy again. "How'd that thing get the jump on you, Slayer?" Spike asked.

"What, you want to take notes for future use?" Buffy asked. She smiled a little as she spoke, and Spike smiled back.

"Just curious is all."

"I'm not use to fighting in ice and snow," Buffy admitted. She colored slightly, turning away from Spike's gaze. "I slipped."

"Good thing I was here to save you then."

Buffy looked up sharply, her eyes widening. "You…you did. You saved me."

Now it was Spike's turn to look away. "Don't make a big deal out of it, Slayer."

"It kinda is a big deal, Spike. I mean, me Slayer, you vampire—remember? You're not supposed to help me. Why did you do it?"

Spike thought about lying to her, giving some answer about how he wanted the honor of killing her for himself. He didn't. "I don't know. I just heard you scream, and all my thoughts went out the window. And then when I saw that thing hurting you, I knew I had to make it stop. Come on, I need to pop your shoulder back in place."

Buffy nodded, turning to grant Spike easier access to her injury. They shared a mutual cry of pain as Spike moved her shoulder back in place, Spike grabbing his head. "Bloody hell! You'd think they'd make it so the damn chip knew when I was trying to help you!"

"I'm sorry."

"Not your fault." Spike opened the kit, pulling out a blue sling. "This is quite the full-service first aid kit you have here, Slayer," he said, helping Buffy get the sling on.

"Kind of a necessity in my line of work."

"I'd imagine so. You've got pretty nasty cut on your cheek."

"It got me with a claw."

Spike took out an antiseptic pad, cleaning and then bandaging Buffy's cut without a word. "He get you anywhere else?" he asked once he was done.

"No. You came in before he had a chance to do any real damage." Buffy looked up at him, worry suddenly creasing her brow. "Spike, how did you kill it?"

"Broke its neck."

"No, that's not what I meant. Your chip—shouldn't it have gone off?"

"I would've thought so, but…" A grin spread across Spike's face. "It was a demon! I can hit a demon!"

"You seem awfully excited about that."

"I can kill again!" Spike said with glee. "Granted, I never thought I'd be the type to run around killing my own kind like your poofter ex, but I'll take what I can get."

"So what, you're going to join the good guys now? Apply for Scooby membership?"

"Um, no. Trust me, I have no desire to join your little Slayer fan club. But hey, point me towards something demony, and I'll kill it." He grinned widely, obviously thinking of all the destruction and mayhem he was once again free to cause.

Buffy shook her head. She knew that all of this could have serious repercussions, but she was in no shape to sort them out now. "Wanna watch the rest of the movie?"

"Are you okay now?"

"It's not bad. With a little Slayer healing I'll be good as new before long."

"Glad to hear it."

Buffy looked at him, her eyes scanning his face for a moment before asking, "Are you?"

Spike turned away, clearing his throat. "How about finishing that movie?"

"Sounds good to me," Buffy replied, not anymore anxious than Spike to see where that conversation could lead.

xxx xxx xxx

Three Christmas movies later, and Buffy and Spike had barely said a word to each other. As each one had finished, Buffy had put another one in, an unspoken agreement between them that another movie was better than discussing any of the events from earlier that night.

As the cute little girl found Santa's cane by the fireplace of her new home, Spike turned to look at Buffy, finding that the Slayer was curled up on the other end of the couch, fast asleep. He clicked off the movie, then picked Buffy up, ignoring the mew of protest she made in her sleep.

"Just carrying you to bed, kitten," he said softly, adjusting her so he wasn't putting too much pressure on her shoulder. Buffy settled down at that, nestling against him. Spike paused, breathing in the scent of her hair. He hated this attraction he'd always felt towards the Slayer, and he especially hated the way what had happened while they were both under Willow's spell had intensified it.

He knew, being what he was, that he shouldn't have saved her. He should've just kicked back, lit up a cigarette, and watched the bloodshed. But he hadn't. The moment he'd heard her scream, the only thought that had gone through his mind was that he had to save her. He hadn't even considered the chip when he'd jumped in to pull the demon off of her, his own well-being the furthest thing from his mind.

Spike frowned, suddenly full of self-disgust. What sort of demon was he? First getting chipped and now falling for the Slayer. He…

As soon as that thought went through his mind, Spike almost dropped Buffy to the ground as if she were made of crosses, the only thing keeping him from doing so being the thought that the chip may not like it. Falling for the Slayer? That couldn't be right. Sure, she was hot, and he could admit to himself that recently more of his thoughts had been about shagging her than killing her, but he didn't have any actual feelings for her. He couldn't.

Spike tried to call an image of Drusilla to mind, reminding himself of the only woman he was ever supposed to love. But as soon as he could see his dark princess in his mind's eye, she faded away, dark hair and pale skin replaced with warm gold.

He hurried into the bedroom, depositing Buffy on the bed before backing away. What he thought he was feeling—it couldn't be right. She was the Slayer, and he hated her. Wanted to kill her. Simple as that.

Spike went into the other bedroom, attempting to sleep, but finding it difficult with Buffy's scent still wrapped around him.

xxx xxx xxx

Buffy was back in the living room again when Spike woke the next afternoon. He stayed in the doorway for a moment, watching her as she leaned against the arm of the couch, watching yet another Christmas movie. Spike recognized this one as that one where the kid keeps prattling on about wanting some sort of weapon. "How's the arm, Slayer?" he asked after a moment.

"Healing," Buffy replied, not looking back at him.

They were both silent for a while, and Spike could tell from the little he could see of Buffy's face that she was thinking about something. Finally, she asked, "Are you hungry?"

"You offering to get my blood, Slayer?"

"Yeah. Don't make a big deal out of it."

"But it kinda is a big deal," Spike said, echoing back the words she'd said to him the night before.

Buffy paused the movie and got off the couch. "It isn't really."

"Buffy…"

"I'll have your blood in a minute, Spike."

Spike sighed, running his hand through his tousled bleached curls as Buffy went into the kitchen, a wall of sunlight preventing him from going after her.

Why hadn't dealing with this Slayer been as simple as the other two?

xxx xxx xxx

Buffy leaned against the kitchen counter, waiting for Spike's blood to finish in the microwave. She kept running the events of the night before in her head, trying to sort them out, but never reaching a conclusion she liked.

She knew she'd fallen asleep on the couch, but when she'd woken up she'd been in the bed. The only reason she could come up with for that was that Spike had carried her to bed. Why would he do that? It's not like he should care if she woke up on the couch the next morning all uncomfortable.

And furthermore, why had he saved her in the first place—and then gone as far as to bandage her up. The Spike she thought she knew would've let her die, egging the demon on. She kept trying to find some bit of selfishness in his actions, but she couldn't. Even if he'd saved her just so he wouldn't loose the protection of her friends now that he was chipped, it didn't make sense that he would help her afterwards.

The microwave dinged, stopping any further thoughts Buffy could have. She took out the mug, curling the fingers of her good hand around the handle it and carrying it into the bedroom, where she found Spike sitting on the edge. "Here," she said, handing it to him.

"Thanks, pet."

Buffy blushed as Spike's fingers brushed up against hers. She jerked away as soon as he had the mug, looking down. She started to leave the room when she heard Spike speak.

"Buffy, about last night…"

"I don't want to talk about last night."

"I'm just as confused as you are about it, all right? You think you're freaked out because a vampire saved you? How do you think I feel, knowing I saved the bloody Slayer?"

"Why did you do it, Spike?"

"I told you, I don't know! I knew you were in danger, and I didn't like it."

Buffy looked at him, the sincerity in his features making her stomach flip. He was a soulless vampire. Soulless vampires did not save the life of the Slayer. Angelus would have… She shook her head, stopping that line of thought. But Spike was watching her expectantly, and she knew he wanted her to say something.

"Your roots are starting to show."

Spike blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Your roots. They're brown."

"Well, yeah. Not like I've exactly had a chance for a touch up. Besides, it's bloody hard to do without a mirror. And that was a rather random statement there, Slayer."

"If you can't do it without a mirror, then how do you bleach your hair?"

"We weren't talking about my hair," Spike reminded her.

"We are now."

Spike sighed. If this is the way the Slayer wanted it, then fine. "I didn't say I _couldn't_, I just said it's hard. But most of the time, Dru would help me with it—when she wasn't totally off in her own little world."

"Do you, um, do you…" Buffy's next sentence came out in a rush. "Do you want me to do your roots?"

Spike gave her a puzzled look. "Have I gone barmy, or did you just offer to bleach my hair for me."

Buffy traced a circle on the floor with her booted toe. "Just 'cause you, um, saved my life last night."

"I put myself at risk for you, and you bleach my hair. Seems like an unfair trade to me."

Buffy's nervousness was quickly replaced with frustration. "Dammit, Spike, do you want me to or not?"

"Um, sure." He tapped his mug. "Just let me finish this, okay?"

"Okay. I'll go, um, find the peroxide."

Buffy left the room, leaving Spike temporarily alone with his thoughts and his blood.

xxx xxx xxx

"Ow."

"Stop being such a baby."

"Well, it hurts."

"You've been doing this for longer than I've been alive, Spike. You think you'd be used to a little stinging by now."

"Well, usually I use Sweet N Low to take the sting out, but since _somebody_ says she doesn't have any…"

"I'm not hoarding artificial sweetener just to cause you pain."

Spike tightened his grip on the towel Buffy had wrapped around his shoulders to prevent any dripping. "Yeah, well, you're probably still enjoying my suffering."

"Not as much as I should be," Buffy admitted. She worked the peroxide into Spike's hair, wishing for a fleeting second that she didn't have to be wearing gloves. Even though the rubber, his hair felt surprisingly soft, and she wanted to feel it against her bare skin. She shook her head. That was _not_ a thought she should have concerning Spike.

"Buffy…"

"Don't, Spike. Just don't."

"But…"

Before Spike could say anything else, the phone rang. Buffy ran to get it quickly, glad for the distraction. Spike sighed, trying to ignore the painful tingling of his scalp as he listened to Buffy's end of the conversation.

"Hey. Yeah, I'm fine. Two more days, but…"

Spike could see Buffy through the open bedroom door, and he watched her now as she bit her bottom lip, worrying it between her teeth. The sight affected him more than he wanted to admit, and he had the sudden urge to grab her and kiss her hard.

"I understand, it's your job," Buffy said, speaking into the phone again. "No, I'm not upset with you, Mom, I just wish you could be back up here. I know. No, we're fine. I'm bleaching his hair. Seriously. Well, he had roots. Oh, he kinda, well, he…he saved my life last night."

Buffy looked almost in pain when she admitted that, and Spike smiled. If this was bothering him, at least it was getting to her, too.

"There was a demon, Spike killed it. Uh huh. Yeah. Apparently the chip lets him kill demons. Yeah, he's happy about that. No, we're not really getting along. Hey, I'm doing his hair—that's nice!" Buffy sighed heavily, and was silent for a while, as she listened to her mother. "All right, Mom. No, I don't think there will be anymore demons. I don't know. I'd call Giles, but… I'll be careful. If anything else comes, I'm sure Spike and I can handle it, so don't worry."

Spike raised an eyebrow at that, then smiled. Somehow, he liked the way that sounded…

"No, you just finish what you need to do at the gallery so you can get back up here. I will. Love you, too. Bye."

Buffy hung up the phone and turned back to Spike. "Mom's going to be gone for a couple more days. Apparently, whatever it is she had to do for work is taking longer than she expected. She also says hi. Oh, and she thanks you for saving my life." Buffy said the last part flippantly, not wanting to get back into that particular subject with Spike again.

Spike nodded. "So are you going to finish this, or am I going to have half brown roots?"

"Oh! Sorry." Buffy hurried back to him, picking up the peroxide again.

Spike smiled, the sting easier to ignore now. _Spike and I can handle it_… Was the Slayer letting him in to her life—and if she was, why did that thought make him so happy?

Spike shoved away any confusing thoughts, vowing to sort them out later. Right now, he'd just focus on how good it felt to have Buffy's hands in his hair.

xxx xxx xxx

Review, please.

Also, if you have something critical to say about the story, that's fine. I realize that not everyone will like what I write, and I'm not expecting nothing but positive reviews. Also, some negative reviews can be helpful, as they can show what aspects of the story I didn't make as clear as I could have. What I do ask, however, is that if you leave criticism, please also leave your email address. I'm not going to write you a nasty email, so don't worry about that, but I would like to be able to explain myself. A lot of times when I get harsher reviews, it seems like the reviewer was missing part of what I was trying to do, and I'd like to have a chance to justify why I chose to write something a certain way. It irritates me a bit when someone responds negatively to my writing, but doesn't give me a chance to respond. It's a bit cowardly, and it's unfair to me. I put a lot of work in my stories, and I have the right to calmly and politely explain any plot points that readers have a problem with. So, to sum this up—criticize if you feel there's something in my story that deserves it, but please give me a chance to explain my side. Not because I want to bash you or anything, but just because I don't like being misunderstood and having no way to explain myself. Thanks!


	4. Chapter Four

Buffy poked at the fire, mumbling as it flared up to only a few pathetic embers. "I hate these fake log thingies," she muttered. "I mean, yeah, they keep you from having to cut down your own tree, and I'm sure there's other really good reasons for them, but I figure if you're gonna have a fire, you should have one with real wood."

"Personally, I think the less wood in the house, the better," Spike replied. "Oh, and not too thrilled with the whole fire thing either."

"Well, I like it. Makes it more Christmas -y. Or at least I _would_ if I could get this damn thing to light. I've set the stupid ends on fire like a million times, and nothing." She set the poker aside in disgust. "Wanna watch another move?"

"You know Slayer, I think I've had my fill of the holiday movies," Spike said as Buffy began to rummage through the rather narrow collection of videos her mother had brought. "I think if I hear 'God bless us, every one' one more time, I'm going to stake myself."

"_A Christmas Carol _it is then," Buffy said perkily, pulling out a video. "And look, it's the one with Mickey!"

"Bollocks. That mouse reminds me of Harmony."

Buffy frowned, giving Spike a confused look. "How in the world does Mickey Mouse remind you of Harmony?"

"High pitched squeaky voice. Although at least the mouse isn't going on about 'blondie bear' this and 'soddin' France' that."

Buffy erupted into a fit of giggles. "Blondie bear?"

Spike's eyes grew wide as he realized what he'd just said. "Oh bloody hell."

"I like it. It totally suits you." Buffy giggled again. "Oh just wait until the others hear this one."

"What! No! Come on, Slayer, even you can't be _that_ much of a bitch."

"But it's way too good to keep to myself. And it'll serve you right for spilling on the whole 'Wind Beneath My Wings' thing." Suddenly, Spike's expression changed from horror to a wide grin, and Buffy felt a stab of nervousness. "Why…why the smiling?"

"You didn't have Willow do a spell. You kept the memories."

Buffy blushed furiously, mentally kicking herself for her little slip up. "Uh, not because I wanted to," she said quickly. "Willow was afraid she'd get the spell wrong, and seeing how the last time she did that, I ended up engaged to _you_, I didn't want to take any chances."

Spike leaned in closer to her. "That's one thing about being a vampire, pet. I can always smell a lie."

Buffy blinked. That wasn't true—was it? Angel had never said anything about being a living lie detector. Okay, so maybe not so much living… An undead lie detector. Buffy frowned. Her inner voice was rambling, and that was never good. "I don't believe you."

"Then answer a question, and I'll tell you if you're lying or not."

"I'm not playing this game, Spike."

"I'm not playing a game, Slayer. Tell me, do you still want tall those little nasties you whispered into my ear when we were 'engaged?'"

"No!" Buffy replied quickly, wishing more than anything that she could just melt away into the floor. Her answer only made Spike's grin grow wider.

"_That _I can definitely smell is a lie, Slayer." He glanced down at her crotch and winked, letting her know exactly what he was referring to. Buffy gasped in outrage, raising her fist to punch him, but Spike caught it and pulled her so she fell forward, her hands stretched out on the couch on either side of him, her face inches away from the front of his jeans. Her eyes grew wide, and she glanced up at Spike, who looked at her, one eyebrow cocked. "So how 'bout it, Slayer."

That was all it took to snap Buffy back to reality. She pushed up, backing away from Spike. "You pull something like that again, and I'll be needing a vacuum cleaner."

"What's the matter? Afraid you might get a little too relaxed and have to stop being such an uptight bitch?"

"You are one step away…"

Spike chuckled. "You should really learn to lighten up a bit, Slayer. Just teasin' you is all."

"Well, it's not funny."

"Neither is you threatening to tell your mates about 'blondie bear.'" He grimaced at the words.

"So what, you thought you'd keep me from doing it by seriously pissing me off? Not the brightest plan there, Spike."

"Maybe I wanted to piss you off. Do you have any idea how hot you are when you're angry?"

Buffy threw her arms up in the air. "That's it! I can't deal with you anymore. I'm going to bed." She stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

Spike smiled, propping his feet up behind the couch and folding his hands behind his head. It looked like he wasn't going to have to watch _Mickey's Christmas Carol_ again after all.

xxx xxx xxx

Buffy sat on the bed, staring at the wall in front of her. As the Slayer, she didn't need that much sleep in the first place, and with not much else to do in the cabin, she felt as if she'd been overdosing. She wasn't the least bit tired when she'd gone into the bedroom, only desperate to get away from Spike when he was looking at her like _that_.

But now she was restless, and she needed to work off some tension if she had any chance of ever falling asleep that night. She got up, slipping on the coat she had draped over a chair and shoving a few weapons in the pockets. Spike was still in the living room when she walked out, and she groaned inwardly.

"Where you going, Slayer?" he asked.

"Patrol. I want to make sure that there aren't anymore of those demons we dealt with last night."

Spike's eyes lit up. "Can I come?"

"No."

He frowned, giving her his best puppy dog expression. "But I want to kill something."

"So what's new?" Buffy asked flippantly. She wanted to get away from Spike for a while, and that certainly wouldn't work if he went with her.

"But what if I do something evil while you're gone?" he asked. He grinned. "I could loosen the top of the salt shaker."

Buffy's eyes grew wide. He'd heard that? He was supposed to be asleep, dammit. "You're not coming, Spike."

"Too much sodium in a diet can cause heart problems."

"If I come back and find that any evil has been done, you're dust, kay?"

"Slayer…"

"No, Spike."

"But…"

"No!" Buffy left the cabin then, not wanting to carry on with the argument any longer. She'd barely gotten very far at all when suddenly Spike was beside her, now wearing his leather duster. "I thought I told you you couldn't come with me," she snapped.

"I'm not going anywhere with you," Spike said. "I'm just taking a walk in these nice, dark woods here, and you happen to be doing the same. Blood coincidence is what it is."

"You are by far the most irritating person I have ever met."

"Aw, Slayer, you called me a person. I'm touched."

"Touched in the head," Buffy grumbled, her fingers wound tightly around the stake in her pocket.

"You know, I'm offering to help you here. The least you could do is be nice about it."

"You just want to kill things, Spike."

"Exactly. And so do you. So I'm helping with that."

"I don't _want_ to kill anything."

"Oh please. You relish the kill, and you know it."

"No, I don't. I'm not sick and twisted like you. I kill because I have to—because it's my duty as the Slayer."

"So you wouldn't love to kill me then?" Spike moved in front of her, closing the space between them. "You wouldn't love to stick that stake through my heart right now?" Spike watched as Buffy's eyes widened, her breathing quickening. "Come on, Buffy—give it to me good."

Buffy froze, unable to get her body to move although her mind was racing. This was Spike. She knew she shouldn't be having this reaction to him. But he was so close, and looking at her in that way, and oh god, had he always smelled this good? He leaned in closer, and she could feel his cool breath against her lips. She knew she should push him away, run back into the cabin and leave him out in the cold. She closed her eyes, trembling as their lips almost touched.

Suddenly, he stopped, and Buffy felt herself flung to the ground. "Spike, what are you…?"

"Demons," Spike said, pulling her back up, but keeping her a little behind him.

Sure enough, there were two demons, similar to the one they'd fought the night before. "You get the ugly one, and I'll take the uglier one," Buffy said, slipping into a fighting stance.

"They both look equally ugly to me, pet."

Buffy didn't respond, merely attacking the one on the left. Spike shrugged, taking the one on the right. He kept his eye on the Slayer throughout the fight, making sure she didn't slip up like she had the night before.

Not that he cared about her. No. He just wanted to make sure he wasn't suddenly fighting two by himself.

Yeah, that reasoning sounded pretty good to him.

But Buffy didn't need him this time. Her pride still a little wounded from needing his help before, and she was determined to prove herself.

As the fight progressed, the two fell into an almost synchronized rhythm, moving in tandem with each other. Finally, Buffy and Spike shared a brief glance at each other before reaching out, both snapping the neck of their opponent at the same time. The now-dead demons oozed into the ground, and the vampire and the Slayer stared at each other, eyes locked. With the adrenaline from the fight still coursing through them, they crossed the short distance that separated them, their lips crashing together. Spike quickly wrapped his arms around her, pulling Buffy against him as she moaned into his mouth.

As quickly as the kiss had started, it ended. Buffy backed away slowly at first, before turning around and walking towards the cabin. Spike ran after her, grabbing her arm. "Where are you going?"

"I have to call Giles," Buffy replied, pulling her arm away from him.

"What?"

"Giles. I need to tell him about the demons. There…there might be more. Giles needs to know. What time is it in England?"

"Sod that. If there are more demons, we'll kill 'em. We need to talk about what just happened."

"_Nothing_ happened, Spike."

"We kissed, Buffy."

"So? It's happened before. No big deal." She started to walk again, but Spike only grabbed her again.

"This time, there wasn't a spell."

"So what, you need the 'Buffy taste' out of your mouth. Why don't you go mangle another Angel cookie?"

"Dammit, would you stop this? Buffy, I felt something in that kiss. I know you did, too."

"Yes. And it's called revulsion."

"Oh please. Something's happening here, Buffy. I'm not pretending to understand it any more than you do, but that doesn't mean we can just ignore it."

"Spike, there's nothing, okay! There can't be. That kiss it was just…well, I don't know what it was, but it doesn't matter, because it can't happen again. I don't want it to happen again."

Spike's only response was to kiss her again, as hard as he could. Buffy immediately responded, her hands tangling in his hair, fulfilling her desire to feel the pale strands that she'd had ever since she'd bleached it earlier. When Spike remembered that Buffy needed to breathe, he pulled away, looking down into her wide green eyes.

"That revulsion you're feeling, Slayer?"

Buffy stepped back, her emotions clear as they warred on her face. Soon, she settled for anger, her formerly-panting mouth closing in a tight line as she reared back, punching Spike in the nose. Spike yelled in outrage, his hands going up to cover his nose. "Bloody hell, Slayer! What did you go and do that for?"

"Don't…touch…me," Buffy snarled, her voice a growl to rival Spike's own. With a flip of her hair, she turned and went into the cabin.

Spike watched her go, wondering if maybe he would've been better spending the week in Giles's bathtub.

xxx xxx xxx

Spike sat in the living room, staring at Buffy's bedroom door and hoping she could come out again sometime that night. He could hear her talking softly, and assumed she was on the phone—most likely to Giles, trying to figure out if she was in any more danger from the demons they had been fighting.

He ran his fingers against his lips. She was right, he did still have "Buffy taste" in his mouth—but the last thing he wanted was for it to go away. If anything, he wanted more of it.

Spike looked up sharply when the bedroom door opened, looking up at Buffy with a hopeful expression. "Giles said he thinks they were Green Breath demons, or something like that," Buffy said.

"Green Breath?"

"Look, he says demon names, and I don't know what he's talking about, all right? But he did say they usually travel in threes, so we should be good."

"No more, um, Green Breath demons then?"

"No. I, um, just thought you might like to know."

"Buffy…"

"Spike, please, don't."

"You can't just ignore this. It won't go away."

"It has to! Us, with the kissing, it's so wrong. Don't you see that!"

Spike stood, walking towards Buffy. When he saw her start to back up into the bedroom, he stopped. "All I see is two people who obviously want each other. So why can't we…"

"Don't you even finish that sentence. I will never have sex with you, Spike. Never."

"What, is it because I'm not the sensitive, caring type like…what was the boy's name? Parker, right? Sure didn't seem like it took much for him to work his way between your legs, Slayer."

The look on Buffy's face made Spike wish he could take those words back. Had she responded with harsh words or even a punch, he would've known what to do, how to respond. Instead, she crumbled, pain naked in her eyes. "Go to hell, Spike," she said, trying to hide the way her voice cracked, before going into her bedroom.

"Slayer! Come on, Buffy, don't do this! I didn't mean…" She didn't respond, and Spike knew he'd pushed her too far. He went back to the couch, slumping in one corner. "Balls."

xxx xxx xxx

Buffy woke the next morning with a twisting in the pit of her stomach. She'd wanted a nice, relaxing Christmas with her mom, but instead here she was, alone with Spike and dealing with things she so did not want to deal with.

His final words about Parker hurt her more than she even could begin to admit. He'd known exactly what he was doing when he'd said that, playing on her emotional insecurities and hurting her worse than any physical blow from him ever could.

Reluctantly, she got out of bed, taking solace in the fact that she could hide in the kitchen, the sunlight between there and Spike keeping her safe from anything he could try to pull today. Granted, she'd have to get a new plan come nightfall, and the prospect of spending the whole day in the kitchen sounded remarkably dull, but she certainly couldn't face Spike.

She started towards the kitchen, stopping suddenly when something beside the fireplace caught her eye. Wood. Freshly-chopped, real firewood. She glanced back at the closed door of the room where Spike was sleeping. Had he gotten it? As crazy as the thought of Spike going out and chopping firewood for her was, there was no other explanation as to how it got there. Well, Buffy supposed there could be firewood gnomes running about, but that was a little far-fetched even for the Slayer.

So that left her with the question of why. Why would Spike go out in the middle of the night and chop firewood? Getting up close and personal with wood was not exactly a favored pastime for vampires, and he didn't care one way or another about the fire himself. It was almost like…

Buffy stopped, her eyes slowly widening. He was apologizing. In his own, Spike way, he was trying to make up for what he'd said the night before. No… She shook her head. That couldn't be it. Spike didn't care what she thought of him. If Spike was doing her favors, it had to just be an attempt to continue what they'd started with the kisses. Apparently, he thought he could find his way into her pants that way. If being "sensitive" had worked for Parker…

But something about that didn't ring true for Buffy, no matter how badly she wanted it to. Spike was a lot of things, but he'd never struck her as the type to play those kind of games. If anything, he had too much of a habit of putting his foot into his mouth as soon as he opened it to even attempt to play the nice guy. So that brought her back to the earlier conclusion.

It was an apology.

An apology from Spike.

Buffy went back to her bedroom, deciding she really wasn't ready to no longer be lying down.

xxx xxx xxx

As always, I love those reviews!


	5. Chapter Five

It was getting late in the afternoon, and Spike still hadn't left the bedroom. Usually, he'd be out asking for blood by now, but she hadn't heard a sound from him all day. Buffy tried not to care, but it wasn't working. She'd forgone her plan to stay in the kitchen after finding the wood, her curiosity at how he would act towards her once he woke getting the better of her.

But as it got later and later, Buffy started wondering if he was coming out at all. His duster was draped over the couch, which led her to believe he hadn't pulled off some sort of "escape" attempt. She wondered if he was avoiding her, as she had planned to do with him.

Finally, Buffy got up, walking towards the room where he was sleeping, her curiosity getting the better of her. She gasped as soon as she opened the door. Not only was Spike still asleep, but she learned something about him she hadn't known before—he slept completely nude.

Buffy gaped, knowing she should just turn and walk out of the room, but unable to tear her eyes away from the man in front of her. She'd always assumed he had quite a body under all that black leather, but this… She willed her mouth to snap shut again, cursing the Powers that Be. It wasn't fair that her mortal enemy be that gorgeous. Mortal enemies should be slimey, she decided. With jagged horns. And a strange body odor.

Not this. Not gorgeous, pale muscle, tight perfection like a marble statue. Unable to resist, she trailed her eyes up his body, allowing herself this one good view of a beautiful sight she didn't plan to ever see again.

When her gaze made it back to his face, Buffy realized she was staring into deep blue. She gulped. Spike was awake, and she was caught.

Spike stretched, giving her an even better view than what she'd had before. "Like what you see, pet?" he asked with a lazy grin.

"I…um…I came to see…you slept later than you usually do…"

"Yeah. Sorta wore myself out last night, hacking away at the forest an' all."

"Oh." Buffy looked down, unable to force the next words out of her mouth while looking at him. "Thanks for that."

"You're welcome. Only let's not talk about it again. Could hurt the Big Bad image a bit."

"What, you don't want it getting around the Hellmouth that you went all Paul Bunyan as a favor for the Slayer?"

"Um, no."

Buffy glanced up again, only to be reminded he was naked and looked away again. "Could you possibly put some clothes on?"

"What for, kitten? You certainly didn't seem to mind a minute ago…"

"Well, I do mind! I totally mind! And what's with the pet names?"

"They make you blush."

"No, they don't."

Suddenly, Spike was out of the bed and moving towards her. Buffy froze, her eyes wide as he backed her against the wall. "So why did you come in here again, _pet_?" he asked, smiling in amusement as her face colored at the last word.

"I…I told you. I…I wanted to see if you were awake."

"Oh, I'm very awake." Spike pressed against her, letting Buffy know in no uncertain terms exactly what part of him was 'awake.'

"Spike…I…we…"

"We what, Buffy?" Spike leaned in closer, pinning her body to the wall with his. "We 'can't?' I think we can."

"But…but we don't even like each other!" Buffy replied. Nervousness fluttered in her stomach. Never had anyone else made her feel this off her guard.

"S'not about like, Slayer. It's about want."

"I don't want you."

"Yes you do."

Spike crashed his mouth against Buffy's, kissing her with bruising force. Buffy only resisted for a second before melting in to him, offering no resistance as he hoisted her up against the wall, her legs wrapped around his hips.

"Cor, Slayer," Spike muttered, when she pulled away to breathe. Buffy's face was flushed, her eyes dark and unfocused. "Want you so bad, kitten." Buffy moaned, rubbing up against him, and Spike took that as acceptance. He carried her away from the wall and to the bed, stretching out on top of her.

Buffy whimpered as Spike kissed her neck, his hand under her sweater, running along her abdomen. His fingers trailed upwards, cupping her breast through her bra. As his other hand moved to the waistband of her jeans, Buffy suddenly realized what she was doing. She pushed up, knocking Spike off of her and on to the floor.

Spike sat up. "Buffy…"

"This is wrong, Spike."

"Felt pretty right to me."

"What do you know about right? You're just a…a thing."

Spike stood up, glaring down at Buffy who sat on the edge of the bed. "You walk a fine line, little girl."

"What are you going to do? You try to act like you're the 'Big Bad,' but look at you. Reduced to depending on the Slayer to bring you pig's blood. You're a pathetic excuse for a vampire."

Spike's eyes held a glint of yellow for a moment. "So this how you get your kicks, Slayer? Getting the vamps all worked up and then pulling this ice bitch routine? Too bad you didn't decide not to take it any further with ol' Angelus, innit? Maybe then there'd be a few less dead bodies in the world."

Buffy gaped at him for just a moment before taking a swing, her fist connecting with flesh and bone as it knocked Spike back down to the ground. "You stay the hell away from me," she said, her tone menacing, before leaving him alone again.

* * *

Buffy sat in front of the fire, watching as the wood slowly burned. Spike hadn't left the bedroom since their confrontation, not even for blood.

She tried not to let his comment about Angel bother her, since she knew Spike had purposely said the thing that would hurt her most, but she couldn't help it. Spike was right. If she'd never caused Angel to lose his soul, less people would be dead. Jenny Calendar for one.

But even if it was the truth, what right did Spike have to say it? As if he could wag a moral finger at her. Where did he get off saying things like that to her?

"_Maybe it has something to do with the fact that you called him a pathetic thing…"_

Buffy frowned. Sometimes, she really hated her inner voice. Especially when it sounded that much like her mother. If she was honest with herself, she could admit that she'd reacted to Spike the way she did out of fear more than anything else. He was getting too close, almost getting her to let down her boundaries the way she had with Angel and Parker. And then what would happen?

He'd leave. She wouldn't even have to turn him evil. He already was.

Buffy glanced from the fire to the pile of wood that was still perched on the hearth. With that one simple act of getting it for her, Spike had thrown her whole perception of him off. Evil vampires did not chop wood for the Slayer in the middle of the night.

Her mind went over the events of the past few days.

Evil vampires didn't sit around watching Christmas movies with said Slayer.

Evil vampires didn't help the Slayer fight demons.

Evil vampires didn't save her life.

So what was Spike? He didn't have a soul, and she knew he'd balk at being called anything but "evil." And as far as "good" went, well, that didn't exactly seem to apply to Spike either. So where did that leave him?

_Somewhere in between…_

Buffy frowned. She didn't like to think about a gray area when it came to her being the Slayer. Demons were evil. She was good. Good triumphs over evil. End of story. But the longer she was around, the harder it was to make everything fit into that neat little worldview. First there was Angel. He was a demon, but he wasn't evil. Most of the time, anyway. But he had a soul, so she had always been able to write him off as a single anomaly.

Then came Anya. Sure, she wasn't a demon anymore, but she had been for a long time. She'd brought horrible, bloody vengeance down on men for centuries. Now, she was Xander's human girlfriend. Buffy was pretty certain she had a soul now, although she wasn't sure whether she had or not in her demon days. And even if she didn't, she certainly didn't seem to have the guilt issues that Angel had. In all honestly, she didn't even seem apologetic for the people she'd maimed or killed. But was she evil?

Buffy frowned as she thought about that question, and found she was unable to classify Anya as truly "evil." A bit annoying, yes, but not evil. And she seemed to genuinely care for Xander.

But what did any of this have to say about Spike? He was a soulless vampire—like Angelus—but he certainly didn't act like his grandsire. Buffy knew there was no sense in kidding herself into thinking that the soulless version of her former lover would have made any effort to save her life that night. He probably would've taken the demon out for a celebratory drink…

Again, that brought her back to what was Spike? As much as she didn't want to admit it, she knew he was capable of love. She'd seen it with Drusilla. She wanted to write it off as a sick obsession, but she'd seen the way Spike looked at the dark-haired vampiress. If that wasn't love, Buffy didn't know what was.

Everything was just so damned confusing. She wanted everything to fit into clearly-labeled boxes, to be the way Giles had told her it would be when she asked him to "lie to her" after she'd staked Ford. But it wasn't. And Spike was making sure she knew it.

And to make things worse, she was feeling guilty—for both how she'd let things get out of hand with him, and what she's said to him afterwards. She wanted to pretend that Spike didn't have feelings, but she knew he did. He'd made an attempt to make amends with her after their argument the night before, and she'd paid him back by treating him as lower than the dirt beneath her boots. If he was supposed to be the evil one, what did that make her?

Buffy stared back into the fire, wishing that being the Slayer could mean having all the answers.

* * *

Spike sat on the bed—now clothed—staring at the wall. Bloody Slayer. Letting him think he could have her and then kicking him back down again. He hated her. Hated the way she looked at him. He hated her smile, her hair, her eyes. Hated her voice, her skin, her taste.

He hated the way she made him feel.

He wanted her to make him feel it again.

Spike stood, roaring in frustration as he threw a lamp at the wall. Things had been so much easier in the past. He was a vampire. She was the Slayer. He killed Slayers. But this one, with her tiny skirts and shiny hair had never let him win. Never given him a chance to fulfill the death wish he'd been sure all Slayers had.

Spike whipped around when he heard a knock at the door. What could she possibly want? Hadn't she done enough for one day? When she knocked again, he yelled, "Sod off!"

Despite his order that she leave him alone, the door opened slightly, a mug peeking in through the crack. "Thought you might be hungry."

"Is that holy water?"

"It's blood. I…I tried to get it to the right temperature, but this microwave they have in here is on its last leg."

Spike stared at the mug, wondering if he'd fallen back asleep and this was some really bizarre dream. "Buffy?"

Buffy poked her head in then. "What?"

"I thought you were, um, mad. You know, the whole 'You stay the hell away from me' thing."

"Yeah. I just…" Buffy looked down. "Spike, what's going on here?"

"I don't know."

"I hate you."

"I hate you, too. But sometimes…"

Buffy looked up and said softly. "You don't hate me so much?"

"Yeah."

"Me, too. Er, not that I don't hate me so much. I mean, I don't hate me either. But…" She thrust the mug at him. "Just take your blood."

Spike chuckled, taking the proffered drink. It was hard for him to stay really angry with her when she was like this. He took a sip, noticing it really was right about at the perfect temperature. How in the world had Angel put up with this girl and her crazy mood swings?

Then he looked at her and knew exactly how.

"When you're done, um, eating, do you want to go patrol with me? I doubt we'll run into anymore of those Green Breath thingies since Giles says they move in groups of three, but maybe they'll be something else around to kill."

Spike gave her a smile that made her feel all tingly. "Sure, Slayer. I'd love to go find something to kill with you."

Buffy smiled back. "Great. I'll just, um, wait for you out in the living room."

"All right, pet."

Spike watched as Buffy left the room, musing on the events of the day. Seemed like somehow he'd gotten back in the Slayer's good graces without doing anything at all.

He quickly finished his blood, deciding he'd take advantage of this for as long as it would last.

* * *

"So what did you do for Christmas when you were a kid?"

Spike blinked, looking down at Buffy as the walked together in the snow. "What?"

"I asked what you did for Christmas when you were a kid," she repeated, rolling her eyes.

"Why did you ask that?"

"Uh, cause I wanted to know. Duh."

"Um, well… My father died when I was little—too young to remember him really—so we'd usually go over to my mother's brother's house. Spend it there. Big family get together sort of thing."

"We?"

"Me and my mum."

"No brothers or sisters?"

"No."

Buffy stopped, regarding Spike for a moment. His mother had been a single parent, raising just him on her own. It was weird, suddenly realizing she had something like that in common with Spike. "Were you close to her?"

"Mum? Yeah. I…I loved her very much."

Buffy saw pain flicker in his eyes and decided to try to steer the conversation back towards better memories than whatever the one he seemed to be thinking about right then was. "So what would you do at your uncle's?"

"Well, we'd go to church first, then we'd go to his house, and I'd spend most of the day before dinner avoiding my cousins like the plague they were. There was usually singing, and a tree, and after dinner we'd exchange gifts and pull the crackers."

"Pull the what? Crackers? As in little flour squares covered in salt?"

"No, you bloody little American. Crackers as in little wrapped up bits of sweets and toys that pop when you break them."

Buffy frowned, trying to picture what he was describing. "Like tiny piñatas?"

"Sort of. Less beating and blindfolding, though. You just pull them apart, and they break, spilling whatever's in them."

"Oh."

"Did you have Santa Claus?"

"Yes."

Buffy smiled, picturing Spike as a child, eager, his blue eyes twinkling as he woke on Christmas morning to see what Santa had brought. Without thinking, she reached up to push back a bit of his hair that has falling on his forehead. She liked his hair better the way he'd been wearing it for the past few days, without the gel slicking it back.

Spike sucked in a breath at the feel of her hand on him. Even through the gloves she was wearing, he could feel the heat radiating from her skin. "Buffy…" he said softly, his eyes sliding closed.

Buffy pulled back, her hand trembling. How did things keep becoming a "moment" with him? "I…I don't think we're going to find anything tonight," she said, stepping away. "Let's go back inside. I'm cold, and we've only watched _A Charlie Brown Christmas_ three times."

Spike shook off the disappointment he felt from her pulling away from him again. "Yeah. Doesn't seem like we're going to be getting any action out here anyway."

Buffy frowned, wondering if he meant the double meaning in those words. He didn't give her a chance to call him on it, as he turned and walked back towards the cabin. Buffy followed him, and suddenly an idea crept into her head that she couldn't force herself to ignore.

Spike could tell when the Slayer stopped, and wondered what she was doing back there. He turned around, only to have a snowball smack him in the chest seconds later. "Oi!" he cried in outrage. "What did you go and do that for, Slayer?"

Buffy giggled. "Couldn't help it."

"You know I'm going to have to get you for that, don't you?"

"Like to see you try, fang face."

"Oh you are so asking for it, missy."

Buffy's only response was to stick her tongue out and take off into the woods.

* * *

Spike stalked through the trees, knowing the Slayer was near. Her scent was strong, and that was one he'd know anywhere.

He stopped, closing his eyes and trying to get a better sense of where it was coming from when something cold and wet dropped on his head. He looked up to see the Slayer in a tree above him, a second snowball coming at him before he could react. "That's cheating!" he declared, shaking the snow out of his hair.

"Yeah, but it's funny, too."

"Oh yeah, I'll show you funny," Spike replied, making his own snowball and launching it up at the Slayer.

"Hey!" Buffy replied as it hit its mark. "That's cold!"

"Well, duh, luv," Spike replied, giving her a crooked grin.

Buffy hopped down from the tree, landing right in front of him. "It's not nearly as funny when you do it," she said with a pout that Spike found absolutely adorable.

"I think it's even funnier," Spike said, closing the distance between them.

"You would," Buffy grumbled, taking a step towards him as well.

"I'm about to kiss you, you know."

"I know. I'm about to kiss you, too."

Buffy felt the fire she'd come to associate with Spike's kisses flow through her again as she pulled him closer, digging her fingers into the leather of his duster. Spike reached down, placing his hand on the small of her back and bringing her closer. Buffy melted into the kiss, into his embrace, letting herself go. A tiny voice in the back of her mind told her she shouldn't be doing this, but she didn't want to listen. This felt too good, and she didn't want it to stop.

Spike moved his lips from her mouth to her jaw, kissing a path up to her ear. "I want to take you inside, Buffy—and then I want you to take _me_ inside."

Buffy whimpered, his silky voice making her knees weak. "Spike…oh, god…yes."

Spike hoped beyond anything that she didn't push him away this time. He lifted her up, cradling her against his chest as he carried her back to the cabin.

* * *

Spike woke the next morning to find the Slayer staring up at him from her position on his chest. "'Mornin', kitten," he said, his voice husky from sleep.

"You're here."

"Where else would I be?"

"I don't know. I just…I've always woken up alone."

Spike silenced her with a kiss. "Don't think about them right now, okay, luv? They don't exist here. Just us."

Buffy gave him a small smile. "Just us," she repeated.

"So you want me to show you what it's like to wake up next to a man?" Spike asked, wagging his eyebrows suggestively.

Buffy giggled. "Yes, please," she said, her naughty grin and the grip she had on him belying her polite answer.

Spike pounced, determined to make her forget about either of her other lovers.

* * *

Joyce walked into the darkened cabin, searching for any sign of the two people who were supposed to be occupying it. "Buffy? Sweetie, are you here?"

Joyce frowned when she didn't get a response. She looked in both the kitchen and the larger bedroom, but was unable to locate her daughter. Seeing as it was still daylight, she knew at least Spike would have to be there. Slowly, she opened the door, gasping loudly at the sight she was greeted with.

Buffy turned, her eyes bulging. "Mom!" she cried, struggling to get off Spike and pull the covers over herself. Joyce said nothing, only turning to leave, shutting the door quickly behind her.

"Oh my god!" Buffy said, burying her face in her hands. "Please tell me my mother didn't just walk in on us."

"Um, your mother didn't just walk in on us?" Spike replied.

Buffy peeked at him through her fingers. "Okay now can you make it true?"

"Wish I could. I think this may be the most embarrassing moment of my existence. And I'm including that time you dropped a church organ on me."

"_You're_ embarrassed? She's my mom, and she saw me…oh god…"

"Trust me, pet, I'm not thrilled by the idea that Joyce walked in on me shagging her daughter. She'll probably hate me now."

Buffy looked at him quizzically. "You really do like my mom, don't you?"

"Told you I did."

"I know…" Buffy hid her face in her hands again.

Spike rubbed her back soothingly, and kissed her forehead. "It'll be okay, pet. Let's just get dressed and face this like adults. She's probably just as embarrassed as we are."

"Yeah, just with less embarrassment and more anger," Buffy replied. She dropped her hands. "I can never look my mother in the face again. _Ever_."

"It's not as bad as that, I promise."

"But…she…we…oh god…"

There was a knock at the door, and both Buffy and Spike looked up sharply. "Um, when the two of you are a little more…presentable, I'd like to have a word with you," Joyce said from the other side.

Buffy whimpered, wishing she could disappear. "Just a minute, Joyce," Spike replied before focusing back on Buffy. "Come on, sweetheart."

"Kill me. You used to be my mortal enemy, and all. Kill me."

"It's not… Wait…used to be?"

Buffy frowned. "Do you still want to be?"

"No, I just…you don't want me to be?"

"Um, not really. But I don't know what I do want, so don't go inferring anything, okay?"

"Okay," Spike said, poorly masking his disappointment. "Let's just talk to your mum now."

Buffy nodded, getting up to gather her clothes. Spike sighed, getting dressed as well.

* * *

Those Summers women really should learn how to knock… lol

Review please and let me know what you think!


	6. Chapter Six

Joyce stood outside the door, nervously waiting for when she could go back in. She knew she had to address the _situation_ at hand, but she was unsure of what to say. She knew Buffy had been with at least Angel in the past, and she wasn't naïve enough to think that her daughter was going to spend her college years abjuring the company of men, but Spike? Sure, Joyce liked him despite the fact that he was a vampire, but was he wanted for her daughter? She'd objected to Buffy's relationship with Angel for many reasons, the least of which not being that he was a vampire. Besides, when she'd left only a couple of days earlier, Buffy and Spike had been at each other's throats, and now they were…well, something else. Could such a relationship be good for Buffy?

The door opened and Spike walked out, running his hand through his ruffled hair. He shifted nervously, and Joyce was glad he looked embarrassed at least. She wouldn't have appreciated smugness from him. "You wanted to talk to us?" he asked, not looking at her in the face.

"Yes, I do. Is Buffy, um, dressed?"

"Yeah, she is." Spike left out the fact that the reason it had taken as long as it did to open the door was that a few, um, _articles _of Buffy's clothing had ended up missing.

Joyce nodded and followed Spike back into the room. Buffy was sitting on the edge of the bed, only giving her mother a quick glance before starting down at the floor again, her face bright red. "Well, I guess it would be an understatement to say I'm surprised," Joyce began. "When I left, you two wanted to kill each other. How did this happen?"

Buffy and Spike shared a quick glance. How had this happened? "I don't know," Buffy said softly.

"We haven't really had that conversation yet," Spike said. He understood Joyce's concern, but he wished she wasn't doing this now. Whatever it was he had with Buffy, it was still fragile. If Joyce made her overanalyze it now, Spike could lose Buffy before he had a chance to make things stronger between them.

"Don't you think maybe you should have before you just jumped into bed?" Joyce asked. "This was very irresponsible of both of you."

Spike's jaw ticked. He didn't want to start anything with her, but she was overstepping her boundaries. Yes, Buffy was her daughter, but he was an adult. Much more so than Joyce in fact. She certainly didn't need to be talking to him as if he were a child. He started to speak, when Buffy's head shot up.

"Mom, I have two words for you—police car."

Joyce's eyes widened. "Buffy…that was the candy, and…"

"No! God, Mom, I'm sorry you walked in on that, but Spike and I are both old enough to make our own decisions about this, okay? Yeah, it might have been a little rash, but it's not like it was unsafe or something. We were two consenting adults."

"But this is crazy, Buffy! I know I told you to be a little nicer to him, but this isn't quite what I meant."

"I know. Look, we really can't answer any of your questions right now. I know you're confused, but so am I, and I bet Spike is, too. So let's just drop it."

"Drop it? Buffy, I can't just drop it! I came home to find my daughter having sex with another vampire." At the hurt look on Spike's face, Joyce added, "Yes, I do like you better than Angel, Spike, but that doesn't change what I want for my daughter. I want her to be able to live a normal life, not…"

Buffy stood up, causing Joyce to stop abruptly. "What about what I want?"

Joyce blinked. "Is…is being with Spike what you want?"

Buffy crossed her hands over her chest defiantly. "It could be," she said, her chin slightly raised.

Spike looked back and forth between the two women, and let a small grin form on his lips. He knew Buffy was just claiming to want him because her mother had said otherwise, but he still liked hearing it.

"Buffy, you can't honestly think this is a good idea!"

"Well, I do!" Buffy replied. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm sure Spike is hungry. I'm going to get him some blood."

Spike blinked. Wait, she was leaving him alone with her mother? That wasn't good. "Uh, pet, you don't…" Buffy was already gone. "Bollocks," Spike muttered under his breath.

Joyce looked over at Spike. "You know this isn't good for Buffy."

"That's her call, Joyce," Spike replied. "Not mine."

"If you really do care about her, you should want what's best for her."

"Again, not my call. Look, I know what you're trying to do, and I can appreciate it, but as you said earlier, I'm not Angel. I'm not going to run off because I can't even give Buffy a normal life. Buffy's never going to have a normal life. She can't. She's the _Slayer_, Joyce. I know that's something you don't fully understand, but I do. I've come up against more than one Slayer in my life, and I understand them. I know what makes 'em tick. Buffy will never be happy with normal. Even if she thinks she wants it, it won't be enough for her. She needs someone who can be her equal. I'm not saying that I'm necessarily what's best for her either, but that's for Buffy to decide—and if she decides I'm what she wants, I'm not going to tell her no. You think Angel's leaving really did her any good? Do you have any idea how emotionally scarred your daughter is? God, this morning she was amazed that I was just _here_. Not that I still wanted her, or that I didn't treat her badly the morning after, but that I simply had the decency not to make her wake up alone. Do you really think that it would be good for her to have another man just walk out of her life?"

Surprise had come to Joyce's face as Spike spoke, and for a moment, she had nothing to say. Finally, she replied. "I…I had no idea. About Buffy…I just thought." She sighed. "I want her to be happy."

"So do I. And I am sorry you saw what you saw. I know that's something you could've gone your whole life without seeing."

Joyce chuckled. "Yes, it was. I'll…knock next time."

"Probably for the best."

"I don't approve."

"I know."

Buffy came back into the bedroom then, carrying a mug for Spike. Joyce walked towards the door. "I'll…I'll let you two talk. But I want your clothes on. Understood?"

"Yes, mother," Buffy replied.

"Clothes on," Joyce said one more time before shutting the door.

Buffy handed Spike the mug, then sat cross-legged on the end of the bed, not looking up at him. Spike set the mug on the bedside table, then sat behind her, rubbing her shoulders. "Are you going to be okay?"

Buffy leaned into his hands. "If you keep doing that, quite possibly," she replied. "You've got great hands."

"I thought I had already more than proved that."

Buffy smiled slightly. "Behave yourself. My mother meant that 'clothes on' thing."

"You poor little naïve girl," Spike said, kissing her neck. "There are so many things we can do without removing a single stitch of clothing."

Buffy shivered at that, but restrained from taking him up on the offer. "We…we need to talk."

Spike's hands dropped to his sides. This was it. Buffy was going to give him a nice little "this is wrong" speech, and that would be that. He thought for a second that maybe he should beg, but decided against it. Maybe he could at least get through this with a bit of his pride intact.

Buffy turned around so that she was facing him. "I know that this shouldn't have happened. I mean, Slayer and vampire—kinda wrong here. And before you say anything, I realize Angel was a vampire, too. But this—this can never be what I had with Angel."

Spike looked up sharply at that, and Buffy saw the pain in his eyes. "Buffy…"

"Let me finish, okay? What Angel and I had was special. He was my first love. But I'm not sure if that's really what I want now. I mean, I thought Angel was all I'd ever want, and that if ever left I'd just die, but…but he left, and I'm still alive. And despite the extreme wrongness that is this, I felt something with you last night, Spike. Something that I haven't felt since Angel, and that I still didn't get a lot with him. Something I've been desperately searching for with Riley, but unable to find. And this is all really scaring me, because two days ago I was so sure I hated you, and then you had to go throw everything off with your life saving and wood chopping, and…why are you so quiet? You're never quiet. That's scary, too."

Spike smiled at her, taking her chin in his hand and tilting her face up. "Didn't want to interrupt you, pet. Kinda liked what you were saying."

"So how do you feel about all this?"

"You make me feel alive, Buffy. And seeing as my heart stopped beating over a century ago, that's quite an accomplishment. And yeah, I get that this should be wrong, but bloody hell woman, I want you."

"But what's going to happen if we do this, Spike? You saw how my mom acted. And my friends—_Giles_—they're all going to freak."

"Sod 'em. The only people who matter in a relationship, Buffy, are the ones in it."

"Is that what this is? A relationship?"

"Do you want it to be?"

"I don't know. That's the problem."

Spike took her hand, stroking it with his thumb. "How do you feel about me, Buffy?"

"I…I used to hate you. But then, well, these past couple days, I…I think I started liking you. That's insane, isn't it? You can't go from hate to like in two days, can you?"

Spike tucked her hair behind her ear. "I did. Granted, I've wanted you since the beginning, but I didn't _like_ you." He winked.

"I just know this is going to blow up in my face," Buffy said. "I mean, I have this horrible dating track record as it is, and if I get involved with my former mortal enemy, isn't that just begging for trouble?"

"Maybe not. Maybe it's exactly what that track record of yours needs."

Buffy frowned. "How do you figure?"

"Well, dating people you didn't want to kill—at first, anyway—hasn't worked out for you. So they way I see it, maybe you need to switch tactics."

Buffy smirked. "That's the craziest thing I've ever heard."

"I don't know. I think a Slayer managing to get two vampires to fall in love with her is pretty crazy in itself." Spike didn't realize what he'd said until Buffy turned completely pale and pulled away from him.

"What did you just say?"

"Um…nothing. Just a, um, figure of speech."

"No, that is not a figure of speech. I'm so hungry I could eat a horse—_that's_ a figure of speech. What you just said, that's…" Buffy stood. "I can't. This is too much."

"Buffy, wait! I'm sorry. It just slipped out, okay? Can't we just forget I said it?"

"No! I can't just forget something like that." She stepped back. "I can't believe I was even considering… This is _not_ going to happen, Spike."

Spike completely forgot his earlier decision not to beg. Things had been going so well, and now she was changing her mind? He cursed himself and his uncanny ability to always say exactly the wrong thing. "Buffy, please. Just give this a chance. It…it could work."

"No, it couldn't. I'm sorry, Spike, but I just can't go through this again."

"Again? Dammit, Buffy, we already established I'm not Angel! I can give you what you need. Really, I can."

"No. You can't. Look, Spike, last night was good, but it was just one night. It's not going to happen again. I don't want it to"

Spike looked at her, pain in eyes. "Buffy…"

"No." Buffy left him then, and Spike lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

"Well, mate, that could've gone a lot better," he muttered to himself.

* * *

Joyce found Buffy a little while later, sitting on the back porch, staring out into space. "Did you have a talk with Spike?" 

"Yes."

"And?"

"I decided it's better if we don't take things any further," Buffy replied tersely.

"I think that's for the best. I mean, as far as vampires go, Spike seems okay, but he's really not what I want for you."

"I know, Mom. He's not what I want for me either." Buffy felt her heart clench at her own words. She could still feel the ghost of Spike's touch on her skin, and it was so hard to resist the urge to run back in the cabin and crawl into his arms.

Joyce kissed the top of her daughter's head. "I know this is difficult, Buffy, but it's for the best."

"I know. I'll be in in a little bit, okay?"

Joyce took the hint that Buffy wanted some time alone. "Okay, honey. I'll be inside if you want to talk."

"Thanks, Mom."

Joyce walked back into the cabin, leaving Buffy alone with the snow and her thoughts.

* * *

Spike paced restlessly in his room. This was not how he imagined things ever turning out with the Slayer. He wished Joyce had just stayed in Sunnydale. Then he could still be in bed with Buffy right now. 

Or maybe they should've just left _him_ in Sunnydale. Things would've been much better for him if he hadn't come here, whether he would've known it or not. Sure, he wouldn't have gotten that one incredible night with the Slayer, but he figured the aftermath of that was going to be more than he wanted to deal with. Especially since he'd let that damn "love" thing slip.

It wasn't like he'd even meant it. He didn't love the Slayer. That was too ridiculous to even consider. He loved Drusilla. She was his dark princess, the face of his salvation. He would love her until he was dust.

But then why had he barely thought about Drusilla at all in weeks? Why were all his thoughts wrapped up in the Slayer? She was all he thought about, dreamt about. And as much as he wanted it to be about killing her, it wasn't. He wanted to touch her, kiss her, feel her beneath him.

It was then that Spike had a revelation.

He _was_ in love with her. He was in love with the bloody Slayer.

In all his years of being love's bitch, this had to be the clincher.

Spike sat back down on the bed, staring at the wall. Why did these things happen to him? Why did he always fall for women who would never care for him as much as he did them? He felt suddenly as pathetic as he did his last night as William, tearing up his poetry, tears stinging in his eyes as he played back Cecily's harsh words over and over again in his mind. He was there again, wearing his pathetic heart on his sleeve, all but begging for it to be crushed under the boot heel of a woman who would never see him as anything but beneath her.

He grumbled to himself, lying back on the bed. At least he had one thought that could marginally cheer him up.

Now that he'd gone and used the word "love" to Buffy, maybe she'd finally get around to staking him.

* * *

Somehow, Buffy had forgotten how horribly uncomfortable this couch was. It was fine during the day, a perfectly comfortable place to curl up on for a Christmas movie overload, but as soon as she tried to sleep on it, it grew painful, hard bumps she swore hadn't been there earlier. 

She sat up, pounding the cushions. "Damn demon couch," she muttered. "Why'd we have to get a cabin with only two beds?"

She looked back over at Spike's bedroom. He hadn't left it after their conversation, not even for blood. She kept seeing his face as he begged her to give them a chance. Never before in her life had she felt guilty for hurting Spike. But before, it had always been physical. Where was the bad in a vampire Slayer hitting a vampire?

This time, she'd hurt him emotionally. Despite their past, she didn't really have the right to hurt him like that. The way he'd looked at her when she'd told him that it wasn't going to work, it was just like…

Buffy suddenly felt sick to her stomach. That look on his face was just like the one she'd had when Parker had told her their night together had just been "fun." Even if she hadn't meant to let things get to that point with Spike, the result had still been the same. She knew what he was feeling now, and it made Buffy ill to think she'd done that to anyone, even Spike.

She got up then, walking to the bedroom and slowly peeking in. "Spike?" she whispered. "You awake?"

"What do you want?" he snapped, still lying on the bed, not turning to look at her.

"I…I wanted to apologize," Buffy said, coming into the room and shutting the door behind her. "The way I treated you today was wrong."

Spike turned his head, giving her a puzzled look. "Have I gone completely daft, or did the high and mighty Buffy the Vampire Slayer actually just apologize to me."

"Yes, I did. And you don't have to be an ass about it." Buffy played with one of the buttons on her pajamas. "I…I didn't mean to use you, and I know that's probably what it looks like. Things just moved really quickly last night, and I…I couldn't control myself."

"I do have that effect on women."

Buffy smirked. "You're impossible."

"And adorable."

"Spike…"

"And do you know what else is adorable? Those pajamas."

Buffy looked at her outfit, blushing. "I'm trying to be nice, and you're teasing me."

"Nope, no teasing. I happen to find little smiling reindeer with candy cane antlers the height of fashion."

"I hate you," Buffy said, the small smile threatening to break through her pout letting Spike know she meant anything but.

Spike held out his arms. "C'mere, pouty."

Buffy didn't think. She just moved, back into Spike's arms. It unnerved her how safe she felt there, but it didn't make it any less true. He wrapped his arms and the blankets around them, kissing her on the top of her head. "Spike?"

"Yeah, luv?"

"Did you mean it today when you said you'd fallen in love with me?"

Spike paused before finally answering. "Yes."

"Oh." Buffy was quiet for a moment. "I…I don't know if I can love you."

"I know. I don't expect you to. It's not the way it works with me anyway."

Buffy looked up at him. "What do you mean?"

"Women don't love me back, Buffy. I Guess I'm just…unlovable."

"Drusilla loved you."

"Maybe. In her own crazy way. But not the way I loved her. Never the way I loved her."

"If it makes you feel any better, I don't get loved back either."

"Angel…"

"No." Buffy moved closer to Spike, tightening the grip she had on him. "I think he loved me, just not, well like you said with Dru—not the way I loved him. I never could've walked away from him, and he walked away from me so easily. Just off into the night without even a real good bye."

"Angel's an idiot. Always has been."

"He thought he was doing what was best for me, but isn't that for me to decide?"

"Seems like it to me. 'S what I told your mum earlier, when she tried to compare me to Angelus."

"You do realize that if we were together, you couldn't kill again, don't you? Even if you somehow got rid of that chip, you couldn't…"

"I know, Buffy. I've thought about that. But there's one thing in this world that's always meant more to me than all the bloodshed and violence I could find, and that's love. I'd do anything for the woman I love, pet. Even if it meant turning my back on everything I am."

"I'm still scared, Spike."

"I know, kitten. Me, too."

"Do you think maybe you could…just hold me tonight?"

Spike kissed her softly. "I'd be honored."

Buffy smiled, cuddling against Spike's chest as she fell asleep with a smile on her face.

* * *

"Buffy…Buffy, wake up." 

Buffy blinked groggily. "Spike?"

"Yeah. There's someone knocking at the front door."

Buffy glanced at the clock, frowning. "At this hour? That could be bad."

"I know. Come on, let's go check it out."

Buffy nodded, walking out of the bedroom with Spike. Her mother was in the living room, a worried look on her face.

"Buffy, do you have any idea who could be here at this time of night?" Joyce asked. "And were you back in Spike's room?"

Buffy rolled her eyes. "We were just sleeping. And no, I don't know who it is. Spike, get my back in case it's something demony."

"You got it, Slayer."

Buffy opened the door slowly, ready to fight if need be. She gaped when she saw who was standing outside. "Giles?"

"Buffy, I have to speak with you immediately. It's urgent," Giles said, shivering.

Buffy sighed heavily, letting Giles inside. "Let me guess, someone's giving me an apocalypse for Christmas?"

"Quite possibly."

"Just what I always wanted." Buffy turned to Joyce. "Mom, you might as well start a pot of coffee. Something tells me this is going to be a long night."

* * *

What's this, you say? A plot? Yeah, I didn't see it coming either. Oh well, we'll see where it goes. wink 

Review please!


	7. Chapter Seven

"Thank you, Joyce," Giles said as the woman handed him a mug of coffee. "I did need a bit of warming up after being out there."

Buffy leaned in the doorway, Spike as close to her as he could be without being too obvious. "Okay, Giles, what's the deal? Are we all going to die, or what?"

"Well, I don't know for certain, but I did some more research on grenbrek demons after you faced them, and…"

"Wait—did you just say grenbrek demons?" Spike asked. "Bloody hell, Slayer, why didn't you tell me that's what they were?"

"I did!"

"No, you said 'Green Breath' demons."

"Same thing."

"No it isn't! Dammit, Watcher, do you teach the girl anything?"

"Hey!" Buffy exclaimed. "Besides, Giles acted like they were no big deal. But now he's here in the middle of the night, and you're freaking out, so I'm guessing it is sort of a big deal…"

"Grenbrek demons are commonly used as assassins, and…"

Spike snorted. "You needed a book to tell you that?"

"You didn't know what they were either," Buffy pointed out.

"Grenbreks are shapeshifters," Spike replied. "They change their outward appearance to fit their environment. Never fought any in the snow before, so I'd never seen them with fur coats. Besides, I was a bit busy helping you kill the bloody things, Slayer."

Giles shot a glance at Spike. "Wait, did you just say you helped Buffy fight them? What about the chip?"

"Yeah, I did. Turns out the chip lets me hurt demons." Spike turned back to Buffy. "You didn't tell him?"

"No…"

Spike shook his head in disgust. "So what, Slayer, it wasn't important? I don't matter at all? Is that it?"

"That's not it! You do matter, Spike!"

"Excuse me," Giles asked, "But when exactly did Spike matter?"

Buffy glanced between Giles and Spike. She knew she had two options. One, she could deny anything had happened at all with Spike. Two, she could fess up and face the Giles meltdown. She looked into Spike's eyes, seeing the hope he had there. Well, she'd already faced her mom—how bad could this be? "Spike matters because, well, he's sorta my maybe boyfriend?" Buffy winced at her own words. Way to sound fickle…

"He's your _what_!" Giles stood, tearing off his glasses and cleaning them as he began to pace the room. "Buffy, are you completely insane? I thought you would've learned your lesson after that debacle with Angel."

"I did!" Buffy yelled. "I learned not to date Angel!" Her eyes grew wide. Had she really just said that?

"This is…it's just insanity! I won't stand for it."

"It's not your choice!" Buffy replied.

"He's a killer, Buffy! How can you call yourself the Slayer and align yourself with a monster?"

"Oi!" Spike exclaimed. "I've been _helping_ her!"

Joyce cleared her throat loudly, and the three other occupants of the room turned back to him. "You know, I'm not a Slayer or a Watcher, but I was thinking maybe we should concentrate on this thing where Buffy might be in danger. Just a thought."

Giles looked a little sheepish as he replaced his glasses and went back to the table. "Yes, well, I suppose that should take precedence over this particular development." Giles added under his breath, "Although this may be a sign the end is indeed near."

"So these g_renbrek _demons," Buffy shot Spike a look, earning her a smirk from the vampire, "Are more dangerous than you thought. Fill me in on why."

"Well, it seems that they are primarily underground dwellers, and venture to the surface only when they have been assigned a target to assassinate. Since they were here, there's a very good chance that someone has placed a hit on you."

"I guess it's too much to hope for that the hit was on someone who just happens to currently be located really close to the Slayer?" Buffy asked.

"I would suspect not," Giles replied.

"But if Buffy and Spike killed these things, wouldn't she be out of danger?" Joyce asked.

"I have no reason to believe so. If someone took the trouble to hunt down and employ grenbrek demons, the odds are not in favor of them simply giving up. It is very likely that whoever it is will send someone else to attack Buffy. Hiring grenbreks means this adversary is very serious. It is very much like putting out a contract with, oh, say the Order of Taraka." Giles gave Spike a pointed look.

"The order of what?" Joyce asked.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Don't worry about it, Mom. Giles is just finding ways to drive his point home with a very large mallet. Besides, these guys weren't anywhere near as hard to kill as those Taraka guys. Granted, that one almost killed me, but Spike and I together had them dead in minutes."

"What did you do with the bodies?" Giles asked. "We could possibly study them, learn a bit more."

Buffy blinked. "Um, bodies? They didn't leave any bodies. They just sort of dissolved. It was icky, but no bodies…"

Giles took off his glasses again, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Then you merely injured them. When grenbreks are injured, they liquefy and return to their underground dwellings. The only way to ensure their demise is to sever the head from the body."

"Now you tell me?" Buffy asked, exasperated. "You know, when you told me they were grenbreks, you could've told me that, too. Or possibly any of this. I thought you were supposed to be the one with all the answers."

"I was not aware of any of this when we spoke, Buffy. Contrary to what you may believe, I do not have every detail of every demon species in existence stored in my brain. Grenbreks are rare in this dimension. It's lucky that I was able to discern what they were from your description at all. If it had not been for the fact you stated there were three of them, I may not have."

"What, is this my fault now? I'm not good enough at describing things I saw in the dark while fighting for my life?"

"That is not it at all!" Giles exclaimed. "But it isn't as if I purposely withheld information either. It took a great deal of research to uncover what I do know now."

"Could've just asked me," Spike said. "Watcher hasn't said anything I didn't know. Well, except maybe that 'turning to slime when injured' thing."

"Would you please shut up?" Giles snapped at Spike.

"Don't take this out on him!" Buffy yelled back. "He only wants to be helpful."

"I'm sure," Giles replied. "Helpful to whatever this is trying to kill you, that is."

"Oi! What part of me not wanting to hurt Buffy now did you not understand?"

"The part where it makes sense coming from a soulless demon!"

"Hey!" Joyce yelled, quieting the room again. "This is really getting us nowhere. Now it's going to be morning soon, and if there's one thing I've figured out from having a Slayer for a daughter, it's that demons tend to prefer nighttime for their attacks. I suggest we all get some rest and discuss this in more detail when we're all a bit more clear headed."

Giles wiped his glasses before replacing them. "Yes, well, I suppose that would be a good plan."

"Great. I'm going back to bed then," Buffy replied. "Giles can have the couch."

Giles looked up sharply. "And may I inquire where you will be sleeping?"

"As if it's any of your business, but with Spike. Good night, Mom." Buffy took Spike's hand and dragged him behind her out of the kitchen.

Giles glanced at Joyce in shock. "And you're just allowing her to…" He trailed off, unable to bring himself to complete the sentence.

"I'm not _allowing_ her to do anything, but you know Buffy. She does things her way. I've told them how I feel about this. There's nothing else I can do."

"But you're her mother. Surely she would listen if…"

"Do you know Buffy?" Joyce gave him a shy smile. "Besides, when I tried, she started talking about police cars…"

Giles blushed furiously, again whipping his glasses from his face. "Yes, well, um, I suppose I should get some rest. It was a rather long trip here after all."

"Good night, Rupert."

"Good night, Joyce."

* * *

Spike reached his arms out to Buffy as soon as they were back in the privacy of the bedroom. "Come here."

Buffy wasted no time in moving into his arms, wrapping her own tightly around him. "I don't like it when people send assassins after me."

Spike winced. "I know. And…and I'm sorry. You know, for when I did it."

Buffy looked up at him without loosening her grip. "It's all right. Things were…different between us then."

"If it's any consolation, I wouldn't have hired them if you weren't so damn hard to kill."

Buffy giggled. "Surprisingly, it is a little."

"Come on, kitten. Let's get some sleep. We're probably going to need it if this is as bad as Giles seems to think it is."

"I hope it isn't," Buffy replied. "I sort of wanted a Christmas that didn't include death and destruction."

"Don't worry. I won't let anything happen to you."

Buffy stiffened in his embrace. "I don't need to be protected, you know. Angel was always doing that, trying to protect me like I was some fragile little girl, and…"

Spike kissed her quickly. "Not gonna coddle you, luv. I know what you're capable of, and I know you don't need a knight in shining armor. What I meant was, I've got your back. Whatever you're up against this time, I'm right in there with you, making sure you kick the arse of any nasty that gets in your way."

"You mean that?"

"Yeah, I do." He winked. "'Fraid I've gotten myself all Slayer-whipped."

"I think I can work with that. As long as I'm the Slayer holding the whip, that is."

"Only you, luv. Only you."

Buffy slipped out of his arms and walked over to the bed, climbing in under the covers. "Care to join me?" she asked.

Spike grinned. "Best offer I've had in a while."

* * *

Buffy left Spike sleeping the next morning and went into the kitchen. Giles was already awake, and Buffy could tell from the bags under his eyes he hadn't slept much—if at all. "That couch is a real bear, isn't it?" Buffy said.

"It wasn't the couch that kept me up, Buffy."

"Jet lag then?"

"No. It was the knowledge that you—the Slayer—were in the next room sharing a bed with that _thing_."

"Well then you lost sleep over nothing," Buffy replied. "Besides, we were just sleeping, Giles." She shrugged. "No point in someone sleeping on the floor when there's a bed big enough for two."

Giles slammed the book he had been reading to the table, causing Buffy to jump. "How can you be so bloody flippant about this? Do you honestly believe Spike has any feelings for you aside from seething hatred? He's a demon, Buffy. He can't care about you. He doesn't even have a soul."

"He loved Drusilla."

"Please. That mockery of a relationship was not love. He has no concept of what real love is."

"Look, my relationship, or whatever it is, with Spike is not up for debate right now. Someone wants me dead for reasons still unknown—how about we focus on that?"

"How can you even be sure Spike doesn't play some part in all of this?" Giles asked. "You told me he heard the demon the first night and sent you out to fight it. Now he claims he knows about grenbreks, but didn't know that's what they were."

"What, just like you didn't know they were assassins? Geez, Giles—jump to crazy conclusions much? Besides, when could he have formed this big conspiracy against me, huh? Was he tapping out Morse code to his demon buddies on the pipes in your bath tub?"

"I don't know! All I'm saying is you seem very quick to accept him."

"Things have been different between us these past couple of days."

Giles snorted. "Apparently."

"And here's something I never thought I'd say— Giles, get your mind out of the gutter. It's not just that. Yes, Spike and I have…um, _been intimate_." Giles glasses came off at her words, and Buffy thought she might have caught a muttered "oh dear god." "But that isn't the point. The point is he's done other things to lead me to believe that maybe he's not well, as bad as he used to be. He saved my life, Giles. That first attack—he heard me scream, and he saved me."

"By hurting your attacker," Giles replied. "Buffy, have you given a thought to the possibility that the chip stopped working, and he's merely trying to weaken your defenses?"

"If that was the chance, then he's had plenty of chances to snap my neck, believe me. And don't give me that look. He could've done it in my sleep. Besides, the chip still works on humans. I saw that with me shortly after the first grenbrek fight."

Giles eyes widened. "He hurt you and…"

"Not on purpose. My shoulder got dislocated in the fight, and it hurt when he popped it back in—so stop thinking all those bad thoughts."

"Could he have been faking the reaction to the chip in order to get your guard down?"

"Um, no. He didn't even think that would set the chip off."

"He could be…"

"No. Why can't you just accept that something's changed here?"

"Because the last time I trusted you with a vampire someone I loved ended up dead!"

Buffy blinked, silent for a moment. "This is different, Giles."

"How? Tell me how this is different!"

"Because Spike isn't Angel! The way he's been with me these past couple of days—he hasn't been faking it, Giles. And I know it's crazy, and I'm not saying I want to go pick out china patterns or anything, but there's something there. We can trust him now."

"No we can't!"

"God, why do you people never believe me? No one believed me about Ted or Kathy, and look how those turned out. Well, I know people, Giles. Call it—Slayer intuition. And as crazy as it sounds, I know we can trust Spike on this. He's not going to hurt me. Not anymore."

"And if he gets the chip out? Then what? More broken necks and messages written in blood?"

"I…I don't know. But that so isn't the point right now. There's something out there much more dangerous than chipped Spike, and we need to find it and kill it. Any suggestions on that?"

Giles sighed. "I don't know. I've been going though these books, but grenbreks will sell themselves out to the highest bidder, with no set pattern of employers. It's impossible to find out this way who sent them after you, or why."

Buffy frowned, chewing on her bottom lip. Suddenly, her face brightened. "I have an idea."

"Why does that make me nervous?"

"No, it's a good one. We need to somehow find out who in the demon world wants to kill me this time, right? Well, we have our in to the demons sleeping right back there in the bedroom. All we have to do is send Spike in, get him talking to the right people, and we can find out what the sitch is."

"Buffy, that's a completely ludicrous idea! There is no way that Spike could—or _would_—do something like that."

"What choice do we have? We know nothing about what's going on, Giles. Spike's all we've got."

"No. I am not letting you…"

Buffy lifted her chin. "You're right, Giles. You're not _letting_ me do anything. I'm the Slayer, and I'm making a decision. Deal with it or go home."

"Buffy…"

"All you have here is a choice, Giles—with me, yes or not?"

"This isn't going to work."

"Maybe not, but it's all we've got."

"Don't blame me when we all end up dead."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "How about you have just the tiniest bit of faith in me? I was chosen for this job, and all. I can't be a complete moron…"

"I don't…"

"Save it. I'm going to talk to Spike."

Giles slumped as Buffy walked out of the kitchen.

* * *

"Wake up, sleeping bleachy." Spike stirred lightly, but didn't wake. Buffy sighed, took a deep breath, and called out in the most high-pitched voice she could manage, "Blondie bear!"

Spike sat up, his eyes wide. When he saw it was Buffy, he relaxed, but gave her a scowl. "Bleedin' hell, Slayer. 'S not nice to scare a bloke like that. Coulda had a heart attack. Well, if that was possible, that is."

Buffy giggled. "I figured it would wake you up. Besides, the look of total terror on your face—pretty funny."

"And I thought I was the evil one. So what was so important that you had to scare me awake, hmm?"

"I have an idea. But seeing as it involves you, I thought I should probably discuss it with you first."

"Is this a handcuffs and whipped cream kind of an idea, or a crazy plan that can probably get us all killed kind of idea?"

"Um…more of the second one. Although I'm thinking I like the sound of the first one better."

Spike waggled his eyebrows. "Me, too. Got either one around here?"

Buffy lightly smacked his chest. "Behave."

"Spoil all my fun then. So what's the deal?"

"Well, Giles says he has no way of figuring out who sent the grenbreks after me. So, I was thinking that if we had some sort of contact with the demon world then…"

"You want me to go see if I can rustle up some info for you?"

"Please?"

"Will there be some handcuffs and whipped cream in it for me if I do?"

"Spike!"

"Teasing, Slayer. Well, partly. But yeah, whatever you need me for, I'm there. I told you that already."

"I know. And thank you."

Spike took hold of Buffy's hands, pulling her into his lap. "How about thanking me another way, pet?" he asked, nuzzling against her neck.

"Spike, my mom and Giles are right out there. And that door doesn't lock. I checked."

"We can be real quiet like. They'd never know…"

Buffy sighed. "It's not that I don't want to—because boy, do I ever—but we can't. Later, I promise."

"I'm going to hold you to that, Slayer."

"I know."

Spike lay back down. "Seeing as I can't do a lot of undercover work in the broad daylight, I'm going to get a bit more sleep. Care to join me, pet?"

"Promise to behave?"

Spike gave her a surprisingly innocent look. "Would I do anything but?"

"Um, yes?"

"I'm hurt that you'd think such a thing."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Uh huh. Right." She lay down, resting her head against his chest. "Get some sleep, Spike."

Spike chuckled, kissing her forehead before closing his eyes again.

* * *

You know the drill—I produce the fic, you make with the reviews. I've held up my end of the bargain… 


	8. Chapter Eight

Spike walked into the bar, every bit of him exuding confidence. It wouldn't do for him to be nervous, not here where those around him would recognize the stench. He went to the bar, leaning across it and signaling for the bartender.

The bartender may have sneered, although Spike found it hard to tell with the large tusks protruding from the demon's mouth. "What will it be, halfbreed? Bloody Mary, hold the Mary?"

"Not looking for a drink, mate. I'm here for information."

"I don't got any."

"Not here for trouble either. Rumor has it someone's after the Slayer. That's something I'd be interested in playing a nice little part in."

The bartended snorted. "What self-respecting demon wouldn't?"

"Well, my interest in the Slayer is…personal. The bint killed my sire a while back. You may have heard of him—Master of the Aurelius line." The bartender blinked, and Spike had to keep from smiling at his triumph. Despite the demon's obvious contempt for vampires, a name like Aurelius still held weight.

"Over there, in the booth by the jukebox. Kreltoph demon by the name of Dejira. She's got the information you want."

"Thanks, mate. You're a good…er, man."

Spike walked over to the booth, sliding in across from Dejira. Kreltoph were one of the few demons species known for their exquisite beauty—which was why the last time Spike had met with one it had been in a brothel, some years prior. With her delicate, curved figure and long black hair, Dejira was almost human in appearance, though her silver eyes and the lavender patterns on her skin belied her existence as something else entirely. She looked up sharply at Spike, regarding him for only a moment before snarling. "I do not wish for your company, vampire. Despite my race's most common occupation, _I_ am not in the pleasure business."

"Not in search of that sort of company, princess. Heard you might be able to help me with a little trouble—of the Slayer variety."

"What makes you think I know anything of the Slayer?"

"It's what all the kids are saying these days." He stuck his hand across the table, although he expected the look of disgust Dejira favored it with. "Name's Spike."

Dejira blinked as Spike pulled his hand back. "Spike? William the Bloody?"

"One in the same."

The demoness began to laugh. "Whatever makes you think I would want your help in killing the Slayer? From what I heard, you've done nothing but fail at every attempt you've made to kill her."

"Yeah, well, this one is a little different than the others. And might I remind you that I've killed two Slayers in the past, so I'm hardly incompetent."

Dejira grinned. "Possibly. But the current rumors are that you have been seeking refuge in the home of this particular slayer's watcher. Tell me, vampire, how is this bringing you any closer to killing the Slayer?"

Spike leaned across the table. "Let me let you in on a little secret, told to me by an old mate of mine. This Slayer, like I said, isn't like the others. This one, well, you have to love her to kill her."

"Love her?" Dejira asked, her glittering eyes blinking in surprise. "Are you telling me you've fallen in love with the girl?"

Spike sat up again. "Hardly," he said with a snort. "But that's what the chit thinks. Should've heard her this morning, defending me to the bloody Watcher. Priceless it was. Thinks she's got me all _housebroken_. But the truth of the matter is, I've been waiting for the right time until I can make my move. Gettin' her nice and soft. So when I heard that there's a new player in town wanting to bring her down once and for all, thought I might offer my services. I'm sure the intimate knowledge I've gained about the girl could be of some use."

"If she's so ripe for the plucking, then why not kill her yourself? Why place yourself in the service of someone else?"

Spike linked his hands behind his head, leaning against them. "You know us vampires—we're a lazy lot. Why bother to come up with my own plan if someone else has already got one?"

"And the Slayer…would you say she trusts you?"

"Completely. It's pathetic, really. All I have to do is give her puppy dog eyes, and she's mine."

"Then you may be of some help." Dejira took a card from the small, woven bag beside her and handed it to Spike. "Be there tomorrow. One hour after sunset. I will see if he is willing to meet you."

"May I inquire as to who this 'he' is?"

"No, you may not."

"Right." Spike stood. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Yes. And I don't think I have to mention to you, vampire, that you are not to tell anyone of our meeting."

Spike gave her a salute. "Course. I'll be quiet as a lil' bloodsucking mouse."

"Good. Until tomorrow."

Spike nodded and walked out of the bar.

* * *

"Well, you did return after all. I expected you to use this as your escape."

Spike glared at Giles as he shook the snow off of him. "Yeah, I came back, Watcher. And I got information, too."

Buffy came up behind him, taking his coat as he slipped it off his shoulders and hanging it on the rack by the door. "What did you find out?"

"Talked to a right bitchy demon named Dejira. She wasn't too forthcoming with the details, but she gave me an address. Wants me to be there tomorrow, hour after sunset."

"And this woman says someone does want to hurt Buffy?" Joyce asked.

"Yeah. Some sort of Slayer assassination plot in motion apparently. Hoping I'll find out more tomorrow."

"How did you get them to trust you?" Giles asked, suspicion obvious in his voice.

"I told them Buffy's every weakness and that I plan to sell her out for a year's supply of blood and some decent albums." Spike rolled his eyes. "I'm a vampire, Giles. Not too hard for me to convince anyone I want the Slayer dead."

"I'm certainly well convinced," Giles responded.

"Listen here, Rupert," Spike said, a flash of yellow in his eyes as he turned on the Watcher. "I've bloody told you I'm not interested in hurting Buffy, and if you don't…" Spike stopped when he felt Buffy's hand on his arm.

"Spike, let's go work out the details for tomorrow, okay? I don't want you rushing into possible danger without some contingency plans worked out."

Spike nodded, feeling his anger dissipate as soon as he looked into her eyes. "Yeah. Probably a good idea." He let Buffy take his hand and lead him into the bedroom.

As soon as the door closed, Giles stood. "Rupert, where are you going?" Joyce asked.

"I cannot just sit here while Buffy is behind closed doors with a vampire."

"Neither can I," Joyce replied. "Which is why I was going to the kitchen for some very strong eggnog. Care to join me?"

"You can stay in the house while they're doing lord knows what in there? Spike is a _vampire_. They're…"

Joyce held up her hand. "Trust me, I know. I caught the live show."

Predictably, Giles removed his glasses. "The _what_?"

"I came home, I didn't knock…I'm repressing."

"Oh dear lord."

"That about sums it up. The way I see it, that door is better closed. Eggnog?"

"Yes, please." Giles followed Joyce to the kitchen.

"You did say very strong, didn't you?"

* * *

"You all right, pet?"

"Yes. I'm fine. Perfect."

"Then why are you pacing?"

Buffy stopped short. "I'm not."

"You were," Spike said, giving her a grin. He patted the spot on the bed next to where he was sitting. "Come here."

Buffy did as he said, resting her head on his shoulder and letting Spike wrap his arm around her. "This makes me nervous. And not just the whole someone's trying to kill me thing, cause sooo used to that. But I'm…well, I'm worried about you."

"Me?"

"Yeah, you. What if this is a trap? What if something happens to you because of me and…"

"Shh. Don't you worry about that, Buffy. I haven't been around this long by being reckless." He kissed her then pulled back, holding her face in his hands. "Don't worry about me. You concentrate on keeping yourself safe, you got that?"

"Spike…"

"We're both going to walk away from this. I promise you that."

"Make love to me."

Spike blinked. "I thought you didn't…with your Mum, and Giles…"

Buffy smiled coyly. "We can be quiet. I just…I need to feel you."

Spike kissed her again, harder this time. "Buffy," he said when he pulled away to give her air. "Want you so bloody much. All the time…"

"I want you too, Spike."

Spike made love to her slowly, surprising Buffy with his tenderness. When it was over, Buffy lay under him still, panting. Spike propped himself up on an elbow, using his other hand to wipe the tears from Buffy's face. "You all right, kitten?"

"Yeah…I just…I never thought it would be like that with you."

Spike kissed her forehead. "I'm just all full of surprises."

Buffy chuckled. "That you are." Spike rolled over, pulling Buffy against him. After a moment, she spoke again. "What happens if you walk into a trap tomorrow?"

"I beat the shit out of whoever had the nerve to try to kill me, and then I come home to you."

"I want to be around. So I can come in if you need me."

"No."

"What?"

"I said no. It's too dangerous, Slayer. If it is a trap, you don't need to be caught in it, too."

"You said last night that you wouldn't coddle me."

"And I'm not. I'd be saying the same thing if you were a three hundred pound ex-con named Butch." Buffy giggled a little at that, and Spike pressed a kiss against her temple before continuing. "Look, if anything you staying behind will make things easier for me. If it is a trap, one person getting out of it is a lot easier than two. Besides, someone will need to stay behind to look after your mum and ol' Rupes."

Buffy frowned. "Okay, fine. I concede to your logic." She frowned. "Did I actually just say that?"

"Must be the orgasm talking."

Buffy smirked. "Must be." She yawned. "Made me sleepy, too."

"Let's get some rest, then." He pulled the covers up around the two of them.

Buffy sighed contentedly. "'Night, Spike."

"'Night, luv. Sweet dreams."

Buffy smiled, images of Spike already dancing before her closed eyes. "I will."

* * *

"You make a fine nog, Joyce."

Joyce giggled, taking a sip from the mug. "Why thank you, Rupert." Suddenly, she frowned. "But I can't make anymore. The bottle's empty."

"Bloody hell." Giles reached up, frowning when he touched his nose. "It seems I've already removed my glasses. Do you know where they are?"

"Nope." Joyce looked at him. "I like you without them. I can see your eyes." She waved a finger at him. "You are very handsome man, Rupert. All…rugged."

"And you, Joyce, are a very beautiful lady."

Joyce blushed. "That's the eggnog talking."

"No, I've always thought so. First time I saw you. If you weren't Buffy's mother…"

"But I am."

"Yes, you are."

"So we can't."

"We shouldn't."

Giles and Joyce both leaned in, the space between them closing. Suddenly, Giles pulled back. Joyce blinked. "What…"

"There's something out there."

"What is it?"

"I don't know. Go get Buffy."

Joyce nodded, running to the bedroom. She placed her hand on the knob, then stopped, pulling back and knocking. "Buffy? Ru…Mr. Giles heard says there's something outside. I think he wants you to slay it."

There was a pause, followed by some muffled grumbling. "Just a minute, Mom!" Spike and Buffy emerged from the bedroom shortly thereafter, disheveled and armed. "Grenbreks back?" Buffy asked.

"I don't know. You better go to the kitchen. I'm gonna go…sit on the couch."

Spike leaned down, whispering in Buffy's ear. "Your mum's sloshed, pet."

"Sorta picked up on that," Buffy muttered before heading for the kitchen, Spike in two. "Giles—Mom says we have a problem."

"Yes. I saw something move past the window. May be our good friends the gra…grem…the demons."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Oh god, you're drunk, too." She sighed. "Come on, Spike. Let's go kill us some bad guys."

"On it, Slayer."

They stepped out the backdoor, each with a sword raised. Spike sniffed the air, then jerked his head towards the left. Buffy nodded, following him. Sure enough, they found themselves faced with three grenbrek demons, all very much alive.

Spike shook his head, his face shifting. "Remember, Slayer—heads off."

"Can do," Buffy replied, charging the first demon and leaving the other two to Spike. She swung, severing her opponent's head from its body. She kicked it away as it rolled towards her then turned, ready to help Spike finish the other two.

Spike stabbed one of the remaining demons in the stomach, then raised his sword to finish the kill. Before he got the chance to, the third one charged Buffy, knocking her to the ground. "Slayer!" he yelled, abandoning his to pull the other off Buffy. As the demon's weight was lifted from her body, Buffy jumped up, loping off the head of grenbrek as Spike held it still for her. She let out a deep breath, pushing her hair away from her face as Spike threw the decapitated body down. "Where's the last one?"

Spike turned around. "It was…buggering hell. It must've melted."

"You should've finished it when you had it."

"Hey now, Slayer. I was saving your life if you do recall."

Buffy brushed herself off. "I had him."

"Let me guess—you were going to let him get a few good killing blows in to throw him off guard before you attacked?"

Buffy shot him a look. "Very funny."

"We'll get him next time, pet."

"I'd rather there wasn't a next time."

"Yeah, me, too. But when it comes to you fighting another time or you not…well, I'm picking the first one, okay?"

Buffy sighed. "Well, when you put it that way…" She gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "Thank you for saving my life…again."

"Any time, gorgeous."

Buffy and Spike went back in the house to find Joyce and Giles in the kitchen. "Did you kill them?" Joyce asked.

"We saw the whole thing, Joyce," Giles pointed out. "They killed two, and one got away."

Joyce pouted. "I want to hear it from Buffy."

"We killed two and one got away," Buffy said in a monotone. "And Mom—you're scaring me. This behavior is way too band candy-esque. Stay away from law enforcement vehicles, you got it?"

Joyce blushed. "Yes. Well, I'm…I'm going to bed. Good night all." She hurried from the room.

"I'm off, too," Buffy said. "You coming, Spike?"

"Yeah."

"Just a minute, Spike. I'd like to talk you—alone."

"Giles, I don't…" Spike cut Buffy off, placing his hand on her shoulder.

"It's fine, pet." He gave her a quick kiss. "I'll be in in a minute."

Buffy glanced between Spike and Giles. "All right. Don't be too long, all right?"

"I won't."

As soon as they were alone, Spike crossed his arms in front of his chest, leaning against the doorframe. "You have something to say, Watcher?"

"Yes. You…saved Buffy tonight."

"Saw that did you?"

"Yes, I did. And what I want to know is—why?"

"Why shouldn't I? Whether you like it or not, Buffy's something special to me. Couldn't very well let her get killed."

"Do you love her?"

"Yes."

"That's impossible!"

"Then why'd you even bother to ask? Look, your high an' mighty Watcher's Council, for all its research, doesn't know a bleedin' thing about vampires. Yeah, some of us got nothing behind the monster. But some of us do. And I love Buffy. It's a bit crazy, but it's the truth. And I'd give my own life for hers if it came to it."

"But that's just the problem—you don't have a life to give. You're nothing but a demon parading around in a human corpse."

Spike shook his head, chuckling slightly. "That what you Watchers tell the girls? Nice little fairy tale to keep them from thinking they're really killing anything. It's a good one, really."

"It's the truth. You might have the memories of the man you were before, but you're not him. You're a demon."

"You're right about one thing there—I'm not the same William I used to be. Being a vampire changes you, yeah. But there's more to a person than a soul. It's about choice. Losing my soul let me make the choice to live free, to find something in me that had always been buried. But being with Buffy has let me make the choice to do something else with myself. To be what the woman I love needs me to be. Maybe you need to choose to see that."

Spike walked out, leaving Giles with nothing to say.

* * *

It has been asked whether or not I plan to have this finished by Christmas. Ideally, yes. However, I can't promise that either. I spend Christmas with my internet-less grandmother, and I'm leaving for her house the twenty-second. I'm trying to be really good with this one, keeping the updates steady, but there's only so much I can do. So I'm not sure about being done for Christmas yet, although I promise I'm trying my hardest!

Thanks to everyone who's left a review so far. You guys are too kind!


	9. Chapter Nine

Buffy tightened her grip around Spike. "I don't want you to go."

"I know, luv. I don't want to go either. But I have to. And in case you don't remember, this was your plan."

Buffy frowned. "I've changed my mind. It's a stupid plan."

"No. It's a good plan—and it's working. No reason to back out now."

"I just…I get so nervous when you're away. Anything could be happening to you, and there would be nothing I could do about it. And…and tomorrow's Christmas."

Spike stroked her cheek with his thumb, delight filling him at the thought that she actually cared about him. "I know. I'll come back tonight."

"You promise?"

"Yes." Spike kissed her, gently at first then harder, trying to reassure her in a way words could not. When he pulled away, he looked into her eyes. "You know I have to do this, Slayer. Hopefully, things will go well tonight, and you won't have to spend Christmas day kicking around some big bad."

"Which would be a step up from last Christmas."

"Yeah? What happened last Christmas?"

Buffy looked away suddenly. Had it only been a year since she'd been on that ledge, begging Angel not to give up? A year since she'd walked in the snow with him, so certain her first love would be her only love? "It was…it was nothing. A thing with…a thing with Angel."

Spike frowned. "Oh."

Buffy looked at him again, forcing a bright smile. "So you'll be back tonight?"

"Yeah, I will."

Buffy wrapped her arms tightly around herself as she watched him go.

* * *

"You are here, vampire."

"Well, yeah. Where else would I be?"

Dejira smirked. "I was beginning to wonder that myself. You're late."

Spike shrugged. "Had a hard time getting away. Didn't want the Slayer to figure out what I was up to."

"Or maybe you were too busy helping her kill demons my employer sent to spy on her—again."

"What did you expect me to do? Sit back and let her fight them alone and then explain why I didn't do a damn thing to help? My in with the Slayer depends on her thinking I'm on her side. If I had let those demons get the jump on her, then I could have kissed that goodbye."

"Then your defense of her was quite convincing," Dejira said with a scowl. "And it killed two of my best assassins."

"Yeah, well, you know us vampires—hard to curb ourselves when it comes to a spot of violence."

"Yes. Part of what makes you such detestable creatures."

"Right. Look, I thought I came here for something other than a chat about things I already know. So let's get to it. How are we killing the Slayer?"

"Patience—another virtue vampires tend to lack. Still…for a halfbreed, you are an attractive specimen." Dejira ran a finger down Spike's cheek. "I suppose I can see why the Slayer would be easily fooled by your treachery—such a pretty face."

"Oi—not pretty. Handsome, yeah. But not pretty."

"Yes, of course. Can't insult your precious masculinity." Dejira moved closer, pressing herself against him. "I don't suppose you'd be willing to prove to me that your heart does not truly belong to that little girl—would you?"

"Shouldn't there be enough proof just in the fact that I'm a vampire and she's a Slayer? Sorta natural enemies there."

"Although this particular Slayer has been known to capture the hearts of vampires in the past."

"Um, actually, it was just the one. And he's a pathetic excuse for a creature of the night—all soul having and whatnot. And he's got this weird thing he does with his hair—sticks right up in the front. Bloody git…"

"You ramble as if you're nervous. Am I making you nervous?"

"Me? No." Spike relaxed his stance. "So, you want a little proof I don't love the Slayer? Just tell me how."

"Bed me."

Spike's eyes widened. "Excuse me?"

"If you are not hers, then you should have no problem passing the night in my bed."

"Well, that's a bit presumptuous, don't you think? Did you every consider maybe I'm not attracted to you?"

Dejira laughed. "You're a vampire. I'm a body—and a rather beautiful one at that. What more is needed?"

"Possibly a bit of atmosphere. I'm not much of one for abandoned warehouse throwdowns myself."

Dejira ran her hand up his arm. "Then we can find a place where we can be more…comfortable. A few drinks first perhaps? Would that get you in the mood?"

"Depends. What do you have to drink?"

"It's beginning to sound to me like you love her. Either you prove that wrong, or this is off."

"I told you, I don't love the little chit! Bloody hell, I'm a vampire. We don't love. We feed and we fuck. Nothing more."

"Mmm. Then you will be mine tonight." Dejira leaned in, pressing her lips to Spike's.

The first taste of her mouth made his head spin, and Dejira tightened her grip around him.

* * *

"Buffy, dear, are you hungry? You skipped dinner, and…"

Buffy didn't look away from the window. "I'm fine, Mom."

"Honey, I know you're worried about Spike, but he'd want you to eat you know."

Buffy smirked. "That's a lame attempt, you know."

"Well, I have to try something. Giles and I are both worried about you out here, just waiting."

"I can't do anything else. I'm too nervous."

Joyce knelt in front of the chair Buffy was sitting in. "Buffy, it's Christmas Eve. I know Spike is out there, but he'll be fine. I'm sure he'll be back soon."

"And then I'll be Christmasy. Right now I just can't think about anything else, okay?"

Joyce frowned, regarding her daughter for a moment. "You really do care about him, don't you?"

Buffy looked her mother in the eye. "I do. I know just a week ago I hated him—or at least I thought I did—but something's happened, and now…god, I don't know if I can call it love, but I feel something. Something strong."

Joyce tucked a piece of Buffy's hair behind her ear. "Just be careful, Buffy. I don't want to see you hurt again."

"And I don't want to be hurt again. But…but I trust Spike when he tells me he's changing. I can see it in his eyes."

Joyce stood again. "I can't say I like this, but if Spike is what you want, then I won't stand in your way."

"Thank you, Mom. That means a lot to me."

Joyce nodded. "I'm going to go in the kitchen to see if Giles needs anything. Come let me know if you decide you're hungry."

"I will. Oh, and Mom?"

"Yes, Buffy?"

"Stay out of the eggnog."

* * *

Rupert looked up from the text he was reading when Joyce walked into the kitchen. "Is she going to eat something?"

"No. She won't leave that spot by the window. She's too worried about him."

"This is insane. He's a vampire. She _should_ be hoping he doesn't come back."

"It isn't that simple, Rupert," Joyce said, sitting across from him at the small kitchen table. "No matter what the circumstances, when two people share something that's…special…it connects them."

Giles looked up sharply. "Joyce…I…" Suddenly, he stopped, rising slowly. "Dear lord."

"Rupert, what is…" Joyce stopped as she turned around to catch a glimpse of what Giles was seeing through the window. "Oh my god."

"Joyce, get Buffy. _Now_."

Joyce nodded, running from the kitchen, the sound of glass shattering behind her as the window crashed in. "Buffy! Demons in the kitchen!"

Buffy jumped up immediately. "Stay here. I'll go kill them."

"Honey, there's tons of them."

"I can handle it. Just stay out of it, okay? And if they come in here, run."

Joyce nodded, her eyes wide with fear. Buffy ran into the kitchen to find Giles surrounded by grenbreks. "I thought you said they only traveled in groups of three!" Buffy said as she fended off one that attacked her.

"They do! I'm sure if we were to count these, we'd find that they were numbered a multiple of three." He stabbed a demon with a knife he'd pulled from one of the drawers, cursing as it oozed into the floorboards.

"Great. Let's ask them to pause for a moment so we can do a quick headcount."

"Buffy!"

Buffy froze. "Mom!" She turned back towards the living room, but was stopped when two grenbreks grabbed her, pulling her back. She swiped at them futilely, until suddenly, she felt a sharp pain at the back of her head, and her world went black.

* * *

When Buffy came to, she was lying on the kitchen floor with a splitting headache. She sat up, immediately regretting it as the world began to swim. She clutched her head, groaning, and tried to remember how she'd gotten here. Kitchen…Grenbreks…Ugh. She looked beside her to see Giles, unconscious. She pressed her fingers to his neck, grateful to find a pulse.

Buffy shook him lightly. "Giles! Giles, wake up! Giles, we have to…"

She stopped, her face growing pale as she remembered the last thing before she'd been knocked out. Her mother… She got up, ignoring her body's protests as she ran into the living room. "Mom! Mom, please, answer me!" Buffy stopped, looking in horror at the open front door and the bloodied trail leading to it.

"Buffy," Giles called to her as he stumbled out of the kitchen, clutching his head. "What happened?"

"They got her, Giles," Buffy said, tears in her eyes. "They got my mom."

Giles swayed slightly before finding the wall, propping himself against it. "Joyce…no…"

Buffy swallowed, straightening herself. "We're gonna find her, Giles. Now. They couldn't have gotten far."

"Buffy, as much as I want to find Joyce, we cannot afford to be rash. We have no idea where they've taken her. If we just take off with no plan we could end up making things worse."

"Worse? How could things get worse? Giles, demons took my mother—and there's…there's blood. It doesn't get worse."

"Yes it bloody well does! Dammit, Buffy, I am your Watcher, and…"

"No, you're not. Remember the whole quitting the Council thing I did? I'm going to save my mother now. You can tag along, or you can sit here and play overly-cautious guy. Either one."

"You're putting her in more danger this way."

"Maybe. Maybe not. All I know is I can't sit around here while my mother is very possibly being taken to her death. So are you with me?"

Giles sighed. "Let's get the weapons."

* * *

Spike woke slowly, a strange feeling tugging at his brain. There was a woman beside him, but her scent told him it was distinctly not Buffy. He frowned.

"I thought you would never wake. Had you taken any longer, and it would've been sunrise. Bet you would've had a hard time explaining that to the Slayer?" Dejira smiled seductively, running her fingernails down Spike's bare chest.

"Where…where are my clothes?"

Dejira giggled, a decidedly strange sound coming from her. "Who knows, the way we were throwing them about. I had heard vampires were passionate, but I had no idea to what extent. Maybe I should rethink my contempt for your race."

"Yeah, maybe," Spike said distractedly as he attempted to locate his clothing. After a small amount of difficulty, he found them all, dressing quickly. He looked nervously back at Dejira, who was stretched out on the bed, nude. He frowned. "How exactly did we get here?"

Dejira sat up. "Come now, don't tell me you had _that_ much to drink. Now go on back home to your little Buffy before she gets suspicious." She winked.

"Right. Sun's almost up and everything," Spike replied, backing away from the bed.

"Oh, and Spike?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you for your help with our plans for the Slayer. I'm not sure we could have done it without you."

"What do you mean?"

"By staying good and _distracted_ while my boys went in and captured the bait for our trap, of course. That certainly would've been much harder if they'd had a vampire to fend off as well."

Spike snarled. "What did you do?"

"_I_ didn't do anything, seeing as I was here with you. But my friends, well, they paid your girlfriend a little visit. Oh, and before you come after me right now, just know that when they left her, she was unconscious. Her life could be ticking away right now."

Spike gave Dejira one last look of warning before running out of the room. He could deal with her later, when Buffy's life wasn't on the line. Or at least as much…

Dejira lay down on the bed again, smiling to herself.

That had been all too easy…

* * *

Before anyone freaks on me for this one, just let me say this: Trust me. I promised holiday fluff, and I plan to deliver.

Review please!


	10. Chapter Ten

Spike burst into the cabin, relief rolling over him in waves as he saw Buffy. He ran to her, holding her as tightly as he could without crushing her. "You're alive. Buffy, I was so worried…"

Buffy let herself relax in his embrace for only a moment before pulling away. "They took my mom," she said, tears filling her eyes again. "There were so many demons, and I couldn't fight them all, and…and they got her."

Spike remembered what Dejira had said to him before he left. "They're using Joyce as bait—using her to set a trap for you."

Buffy's eyes grew wide. "Is that what you learned tonight?"

"Yeah. I didn't…"

Before Spike could finish, he felt someone grab him, pining him against the wall. Spike looked up at Giles in shock, having been so focused on Buffy that he hadn't realized the other man had come into the room. "You knew what they were going to do to Joyce," Giles accused. "You knew, and you let it happen."

"No! I swear, I didn't! Dejira tricked me, kept me out of the way. She only said something about getting bait for a trap—didn't say it was Joyce—and even that wasn't until the end. Ran back here as soon as she told me what she'd done."

Buffy placed her hand on the Watcher's shoulder. "Let him go, Giles. He didn't sell my mother out. He wouldn't do that."

"Yes, he would! He's evil Buffy."

"He wouldn't, and he _didn't_. Just let him go so we can save her, all right?" With obvious reluctance, Giles dropped Spike. Buffy nodded. "Good. Now I believe we were going after the demons that took my mother."

"Buffy, I'm afraid in light of what Spike has just told us, I must again protest your rash plan of action. You will be walking into a trap."

"I know I will—but what happens if we don't take the bait? There's a good chance that they've left her alive if they want to lure me with her, but if we don't hurry, they might kill her. We don't have any choice."

"You could also be putting her in more danger this way."

"We don't have time for this!" Buffy turned back to Spike. "Do you have any idea where they may have taken her?"

"I'm not sure, but Dejira brought me somewhere not far from here. Could be a place to start at least. I think I could tell you how to get there. I had to find my way back at least partly by tracking a scent."

"What scent?" Buffy asked.

"Yours."

Buffy blushed at his simple answer. Somehow, the thought that Spike knew her scent that well affected her in ways she hadn't expected. When it had come to Angel, his ability to track someone by their scent had always slightly unnerved her, but this… Buffy shook her head. This was not the time to go there. "Spike, you giving us directions isn't good enough. I need you with me for this."

"Can't. Sun's going to be up soon. Won't do you a lot of good as a pile of dust."

"This place of Dejira's—did it have a lot of windows?"

"No."

"Good. Giles, there's a town a few miles up the road. Go there and get some black paint. We're going to sunproof the car."

"Buffy, this is…"

"Dammit, Watcher, would you knock it off?" Spike yelled. "All your protesting is just wasting time for Joyce."

"But this is insanity! You have to know Buffy is rushing into danger—hell, you probably set it up that way. Besides, all the stores will be closed at this hour—and on Christmas no less."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Would you quit it with Spike? And if the stores are closed, then just go all Rippery and break in. We don't have time for you to get all moral on me."

"Buffy…"

"Either you go, or I do. Do you have any idea how badly I drive?"

"Right. Well, I'll be back soon then."

"Is he always this much of a git?" Spike asked once Giles had left.

"Sometimes. He can be like a dog with a bone. Especially since he's thinking you're part of the whole trap thing."

"He's not completely daft in that, you know." When Buffy looked at him in surprise, Spike quickly added, "Not that he's right. Just if I were in his position, I'd worry, too. Although I don't think I'd be such a damn broken record about the whole thing."

Buffy threw her arms around Spike suddenly, holding him close. "I know you wouldn't do anything to hurt me. I…I trust you. I know I probably shouldn't, but I do." When she felt Spike stiffen in her arms, Buffy looked up. "Is something wrong? Other than the obvious, I mean."

"No. Sorry. It's just…been a long day."

Buffy pulled away, reaching down to give his hand a lingering squeeze as she did. "I'm going to go heat you up some blood. If things get ugly, I'll need you at full strength."

"Buffy, you don't have to…"

Buffy silenced him with a kiss. "I told you—full strength, gonna need it. I'll be right back."

Spike nodded, letting her go. When she came back, she found him sitting in a corner of the room, avoiding the sun. She handed him the mug, sitting beside him. "You could go in the bedroom, you know."

"I'm fine here."

Buffy rested her head on his shoulder, frowning when he didn't respond to her at all. "Spike, what's wrong? And don't tell me it's nothing, because I know that's a lie."

"I'm worried about Joyce."

"No, it's more than that. What's going on?"

Spike was silent for a moment before he finally responded. "I let you down."

"What?"

"I should've been here, helping you fight those demons. I never should've gone off to meet Dejira. You were right—it was a bad idea."

"Spike, this isn't your fault. There were so many of them, I'm not even sure you being here would've made a difference."

"How many were there?"

"I don't know. Some multiple of three."

"What?"

"Never mind." Buffy kissed his cheek. "Don't blame yourself for this, please. Just help me get her back."

"I will. Your mum will be home for Christmas, Buffy."

"I'm falling in love with you."

Spike coughed. "What?"

Buffy looked down at the floor. "I…I don't think I'm there yet, but I'm…I'm heading that way. I just thought you should know."

Spike smiled and kissed the top of her head. "Thank you. That's…that's the best Christmas present you could have given me."

Buffy nestled against him, taking comfort in his strength as they waited for Giles.

* * *

Buffy surveyed their handiwork, frowning. "I really hope my mom doesn't get all mad 'cause I painted her car windows black."

Giles wiped his brow. "Yes, well, hopefully she'll understand it was done in an attempt to save her life."

"Yeah, that's the outcome I'm hoping for, too. And it'll come off, won't it?"

"With a little work, yes, it should."

'I'm going to go in and get Spike."

"Buffy, I know you won't listen, but…"

"You're right. I won't listen—because I've heard it. Just go with me on this one, okay? And if I'm wrong, well, then we'll end up dead, and you can spend eternity in the afterlife nagging me about it."

Giles chuckled. "Well, I suppose there is some consolation in that."

"Start up the car. I'll be right back."

"How exactly am I supposed to drive with almost the entire windshield black?"

"Carefully?"

"Yes, of course. How silly of me to even ask," Giles replied sarcastically. He sighed at the look on Buffy's face. "I'll go start the car."

"You do that."

A few moments later, Buffy reemerged from the cabin, Spike running beside her with a blanket thrown over him. Once in the car, he threw it to the floorboards, stamping out the small fire that had started. "Well then, he said, smoothing back his hair, "Let's get this show on the road, shall we?"

* * *

Joyce woke to find herself in an unfamiliar room, tied to a chair. A tall, raven haired woman stood in front of her, a glint in her silver eyes. "What is going on?" Joyce demanded.

"Mrs. Summers, I see you are awake. My name is Dejira, and let me welcome you to my home. I am so pleased that you will be spending this holiday here with me, watching me kill your daughter in a slow and painful manner."

Joyce struggled with her bonds, although she knew that she wouldn't be able to loosen the ropes. "You won't stand a chance against Buffy," Joyce said, a hint of motherly pride in her voice.

"Please." Dejira waved her hand. "As if anyone with a name like Buffy would stand a chance against me."

"Hey! I gave her that name!"

"And what a silly woman you are."

Joyce glared. "You obviously don't know my daughter. _Buffy_ is going to kill you."

"And let me guess—her vampire lover will help?" Dejira laughed. "Although he's not really hers at all. He's mine. Do you honestly think he just got lucky in finding me the other night, or that he was actually here for a meeting last night? Please. He's been mine all along, and that pathetic daughter of yours played right into our hands."

"You're lying."

"Believe what you want, Mrs. Summers. You'll be dead soon enough anyway."

Joyce said nothing, only narrowing her eyes. Whoever this woman was, Joyce knew that she had seriously underestimated her daughter.

* * *

"Are you sure this is it?"

Spike peered out the tiny break in the black paint, careful not to let the sunlight hit him directly. "Yes. This is it."

"It was remarkably close to the cabin."

Spike rolled his eyes. "Well, yeah. My thinking is that's on purpose. This bitch has been spying on Buffy—it would make sense that she'd be close enough to do that effectively."

"Right. I guess it would."

"Giles, come with me," Buffy said from the backseat. "I'm going to make sure the door is open before Spike gets out. We don't want him burning up on the doorstep."

"We don't?"

Buffy shot her Watcher a look. "Stop it."

Giles muttered to himself, getting out of the car and following Buffy to the front door. She shook the handle a couple of times before sighing and kicking it in. "Well, I suppose that's one way to open it," Giles said.

"Spike!" Buffy yelled. "Come on!"

"Way to be discreet," Giles said. "I'm sure none of the evil things inside know we're here now."

"Giles, we're here to kill them, not throw a surprise party. The sooner they show up, the sooner I can lop off their heads and save my mother."

Spike ran up then, coming inside and throwing the blanket to the ground. "So we killing nasties now?"

"That was the plan," Buffy said, handing him one of the swords she was carrying. "Let's go save my mother."

"Do you really think he wants to help you?"

Spike sighed heavily as Dejira walked out of the shadows. "Bollocks, you are home. I was sort of hoping you would've thrown yourself in front of a bus since the last time I saw you."

"Darling, is that any way to talk to me after our night of passion?"

Buffy looked up sharply at Spike. "What is she talking about?"

"What, he didn't tell you?" Dejira asked with a smile. "While you were busy with my demons, your vampire was busy with me." She laughed at the stricken look on Buffy's face. "Oh, you poor, naïve little girl. Did you really think you'd be enough to satisfy him?"

"Buffy, I didn't. Please, luv, you have to believe me." Spike grabbed Buffy by the shoulders, looking into her eyes. "I don't know what happened last night, but I know I didn't sleep with her."

Dejira walked to Spike, running her hand along his arm. "Tell her the truth, darling. Tell her how you woke earlier this morning. Was it not in my bed—without your clothes?"

"Balls," Spike muttered under his breath. "Okay, yeah, that happened—but I didn't shag her. She did something to me, drugged me some how. She says that we were drinking, and that's why I didn't remember, but Buffy, I don't even remember _drinking_, never mind getting drunk enough to want _her_."

"That's the best you can come up with?" Dejira asked. "That's pathetic." She looked at Buffy. "Please don't tell me you're going to believe that load of rubbish."

Buffy turned on Dejira, a sneer on her face. "Actually, bitch, I am. Because you know, even with Drusilla and Harmony in his past, Spike still has better taste than _you_. So answer me now before I hack you into tiny, skanky little pieces—Where. Is. My. _Mother_?"

"Foolish child. You walked into my trap—therefore, you are going to die. It is as simple as that."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Apparently, you don't know how this works. I'm the Slayer—and I'm gonna win. So we can do this the hard way, or we can do it the easy way. It doesn't really matter to me, because in the end, I'm going to walk away."

"I don't think so." Dejira snapped her fingers and twelve grenbrek demons stepped into the room. "Kill them, boys."

Buffy, Spike, and Giles stood in the center of the room, swords raised as the grenbreks closed in on them. "I told you this was a bad idea," Giles said.

"Yes, but did you have a better one?" Buffy asked.

"Well, um, no."

"Exactly. Now shut up and start killing some demons."

Giles sighed as the fight begun.

* * *

Did you actually think I'd have Spike cheat on Buffy? Oh ye of little faith…

I would like to say a little something to the people that bitched me out—my feelings are a bit hurt. I'm not talking about the people who fell for my little ploy and thought Spike did sleep with Dejira. I mean the few of you that totally wrote off the story. I feel like I have been delivering a fairly good story so far with an obvious love of the spuffiness, and it hurt a bit to see that you would lose all faith in me so quickly. As a writer, I like to feel like I should be able to have plot twists like that without having to fear that people will stop reading in the middle because of one chapter that was in actuality, rather ambiguous. If any of you are still reading, please give me a little more time before you jump on me in the future, okay? I even went as far as to promise fluffiness in the author's note, hinting that things weren't as bad as they seemed, to try to prevent that, and I still got a few cold reviews. Expressing nervousness I understand, but I'd really rather not have my story condemned before it's even finished. After it's done if you still don't like it, flame away if you must, but if you've been enjoying it for this long, don't cut me loose so suddenly. Honestly, I wouldn't want Spike to do that to Buffy anymore than you would… Thanks!

Reviews would be much appreciated.


	11. Chapter Eleven

It wouldn't have been that long ago that Buffy would've found the fact that Spike was behind her holding a sword anything but comforting. But now, as they were surrounded by demons determined to make this her last day on earth, there was no one she'd rather have by her side.

"Slayer! On your left!" Buffy moved as soon as she heard his voice, almost without thinking. She brought her sword down hard, watching as the demon's head tumbled to the ground. She spared Spike a quick glance, their eyes meeting for a second and letting each other know that they were still on top in this fight.

Giles stepped back from the battle, the demons paying him little attention, not seeing him as the real threat to them. He allowed himself only a moment to observe Buffy and Spike, amazed at what he saw. He'd been certain that Spike would turn on them as soon as they arrived, but he hadn't. Instead, he was fighting at the Slayer's side, and Giles knew that the vampire was not holding back.

And truth be told, the two of them fighting together was an amazing sight to behold. They moved almost in tandem, each one seemingly aware of what the other was doing without looking. Giles had a sinking feeling that he'd been wrong—that maybe Buffy had been so adamant about the vampire's change not because she was blind, but because she was seeing something that he had not.

But it wasn't the time to suss any of that out. Joyce was still in trouble, and he needed to find her. He looked at Dejira, seeing that she was busy yelling orders to her demons. He noticed a hall and went down it, checking the first door he encountered for Joyce. He peeked in, frowning when he found it empty. A second door yielded the same results.

When the third one he tried was locked, Giles knew he'd found her. He banged against the door a few times until he felt the wood splinter against him.

"Rupert!" Joyce exclaimed with relief as she saw Giles enter the room.

Giles ran to her, cutting the ropes that bound her with his sword, and Joyce stood, rubbing her sore wrists. "Thank goodness you got here," she said. "I was really beginning to worry. Is Buffy here? Dejira…"

Joyce grew silent, her eyes wide as Giles grabbed her, pulling her to him for a passionate kiss. After a second of shock, Joyce responded, wrapping her arms around him. When he pulled away, she looked up at him, blinking. "What…what was that?"

Giles stepped back, taking his glasses off for a cleaning. "I…was worried. They took you, and you could've been dead, and…" He replaced his glasses. "Buffy is fighting in the other room. We should go…check on that. But stay behind me."

Joyce just gave him a nod, knowing she had to let the moment go. She knew it had been his fear that something had happened to her that had elicited that response, nothing more.

Still, she couldn't help but press her fingers to her lips as she followed him out of the room.

* * *

With only two of the grenbreks remaining, Buffy knew it was time to move on to bigger things. Spike had the demons under control.

Dejira needed to find out why you didn't mess with a Slayer…

Fear was apparent in Dejira's inhuman eyes as Buffy moved towards her. She called for her demons, but they didn't respond, too busy with Spike. Buffy backed Dejira against a wall, pinning the demoness there with her sword resting below her chin. "Care to tell me why you tried to ruin my Christmas?"

"You deserve death!"

"I kinda figured you felt that way, seeing as you've been trying to kill me and all, but it really doesn't answer my question. So tell me now—who do you work for, and where is he? I'd like to kill him, too."

"I work for no one. That was merely a ploy to keep your _pet _interested enough to want to meet with me again. When I first saw that you had brought a vampire with you, I feared that it would ruin my plan, but then I realized that it would be an advantage. I knew you would send him to me, and I knew I could convince him to meet with me alone. I was hoping that I could cause a little more damage by seducing him, but it doesn't matter now. You're going to die, and the Hellmouth will finally be rid of its irritating little Slayer problem. Oh, and then I can unleash hell on earth, et cetera, et cetera. I have an apocalypse planned for shortly after the new year."

"You are one crazy bitch. And as for killing me, I believe I'm the one with the sword at _your_ throat."

"Not for long."

The door behind Buffy opened, allowing more demons to spill out. Spike tried to run to Buffy, only to be blocked by the demons that now surrounded her. Buffy heard him call her name as a grenbrek grabbed her, throwing her across the room, Buffy's sword falling to the ground.

Dejira laughed, picking up the sword and advancing on the Slayer. "Looks like maybe things aren't as good for you as you thought, are they? Now, I'm going to kill you. And then, I'm going to kill the vampire." Dejira smiled. "Or perhaps, I should kill him first. Would you like to watch?"

Buffy looked up, narrowing her eyes. "You stay the _hell_ away from my boyfriend."

"You aren't in any position to be threatening me."

Buffy kicked Dejira's hand, sending the sword into the air. She leapt up, catching the weapon in midair, and landing on her feet, back in front of the demon. "How about now?"

Dejira snapped her fingers, bringing three demons advancing on Buffy. Buffy swung, decapitating two with one long arch before quickly disposing of the third as well. She stalked towards Dejira, reveling in the fear in the demon's eyes. "So you really thought your screwed up little plan would take care of the Slayer?" Buffy grinned. "Kinda looks like you were wrong."

Buffy thrust the sword forward, burying it firmly planting it in Dejira's chest. Dejira looked at her in shock for a moment before sliding off the blade and crumpling to the floor.

Suddenly, the grenbreks stopped their attack, filing out of the building. Buffy ran to Spike's side, watching as they left. "Two questions: Where are they going, and should we go after them?"

"I'm guessing with Dejira dead, their contract with her is void. And as for the second part, I'm voting for no."

"I'll second that," Buffy said. "I think I've had my fill of holiday slayage fun."

Spike looked over at Dejira's body and smirked. "I'll say you did. Bitch should've known better than to mess with my girl."

Buffy reached out, touching Spike's shoulder. "You're hurt. It looks kinda bad."

"One of them got me pretty good with its claws, but I'm all right."

"We're going to need to patch it up," Buffy said. "There's not anything in the car, but the cabin isn't far, so…"

"Buffy, as endearing as you fussing over me is, I'm fine. Really."

"I'm not…"

"Buffy!"

Buffy looked up, the relief obvious in her eyes when she saw her mother running towards her. Buffy hugged Joyce tightly. "I was so worried."

"I'm okay," Joyce assured her daughter. "A little shaken from being kidnapped, but not too hurt."

"There…there was blood. I saw a trail out the door."

"I think one of the demons hit me in the back of the head," Joyce said. She touched her hair. "I have a slight headache, and I'm sure my hair is a mess, but it's not bad."

"Where exactly did all the demons go?" Giles asked. "This place was full when I went to find Joyce."

"We killed all those," Buffy said, her arm still around her mother. "But then there were more. They left."

Giles raised an eyebrow. "Left?"

"Yeah. Right after I killed Dejira. Spike says they probably took off because their contract is void now."

"We should do a bit of investigation, make sure…"

Buffy cut him off. "Giles, I'm tired. It's Christmas, and I just want to go back to the cabin, sit around the tree, and drink some sort of hot beverage."

"Yes, well, I supposed if there are any more problems, they'll find us."

"Don't they always?" Buffy said as she walked with her mother towards the door.

* * *

Buffy sat on the floor beside the fire, resting against Spike, his hands wrapped loosely around her waist. She glanced over to the other side of the living room where her mother and Giles were sitting, talking. She thought for a fleeting second that her mother may be flirting, but then pushed that out of her mind due to the extreme creepiness factor.

"You know," she said, tilting her head to look back at Spike. "This has been a pretty good Christmas."

"You spent the first part of it fighting for your life."

"Well, yeah, but…" She smiled at him. "This part is good. Warm real-wood fire and boyfriend snuggles—definitely of the good."

"Boyfriend, huh?"

Buffy blushed. "I, um…that's what you are now, right?"

"Kitten, I'm anything you want me to be."

Buffy's eyes lit up. "Oooh. I think I might have fun with that."

Spike smirked. "With that look, I think I might, too."

"Oh, I just remembered, I got you a present," Buffy said, moving out of his arms.

"When exactly did you find the time to get me a present," Spike asked with a frown.

"Before we got here," Buffy said. "Mom kinda made me. Although now I'm glad she did." Buffy gave him a quick kiss. "Be right back."

Buffy returned a few moments later, a brightly wrapped package in her hands. "Here."

Spike looked at it for a moment. "You bought this when you hated me. I'm a bit nervous…"

Buffy sat beside him. "Don't be. It's not an 'I hate you' present. I promise."

Spike tore off the paper, his eyes growing wide when he saw the pink and green album cover. "You got me the Sex Pistols?"

Buffy looked down, blushing a little. "Xander said he caught Harmony burning yours a little while back, and I thought…I thought you might like it."

Spike grinned, pulling her to him for a kiss. "I love it. Does make me feel a bit guilty that I didn't have the foresight to by my then mortal enemy anything, though."

Buffy traced the pattern of the grain of the wood floor. "I just didn't know what else to get, and Mom was telling me to hurry, and I saw it, and…"

"I'll get you something when we get back to Sunnydale," Spike promised, running a hand through her hair.

Buffy looked back up. "Or you could just promise never to play it around me. That would be a good present."

Spike chuckled. "I don't know, Slayer. I bet I could convince you of the finer points of punk music."

"Somehow, I just don't see that happening."

"Not even if I was the one singin' it?"

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Please. You probably don't even have a good singing voice."

Spike pulled her to him, pressing his lips to her ear and singing softly.

"I'm in love again  
Been like this before  
I'm in love again  
This time's true I'm sure

Don't wanna end up like no nine day wonder  
I've been hurt so many times before  
So my darlin' I will never leave you  
It's in my blood to always love you more  
Love you more"

Buffy shivered, his voice rolling over her, setting her on fire. She jumped to her feet, yawning loudly. "You know, all the excitement today has really worn me out. I think I'm going to go take a nice Christmas nap."

Spike looked at her in confusion for a moment before he caught what she was doing. "You know, me, too," he said, standing up. "Been quite a day."

Buffy took his hand and pulled him along behind her, ignoring her mother and Giles as she did.

* * *

When Buffy woke, her mind fuzzy. She tried to piece together how she'd gotten here.

She and Spike had come to the bedroom. They'd begun to make love when she'd remembered what Dejira had tried to convince her of, jealousy flooding over her at the thought of anyone trying to touch _her_ Spike. Almost as if compelled by a force beyond herself, she'd done something then that she'd never thought she'd do.

She bit him.

And in return, Spike had…

Buffy turned to see Spike sitting beside her, his face buried in his hands. She reached out, softly laying her hand on his arm. He pulled away. "Buffy, you shouldn't…you shouldn't touch me."

Buffy frowned. "What's wrong?"

He dropped his hands, looking at her in disbelief. "What's _wrong_? Do you have any idea what I just did to you?"

"Made me scream?"

"I _bit_ you."

"I bit you first."

"Buffy, I lost control. I…I could've hurt you."

Buffy sat up, wrapping her arms around him. "Did the chip go off?"

"No." Spike's eyes widened. "Do you think it stopped working?"

"No, you silly vampire. I'm saying you didn't hurt me."

"But I could have."

"But you didn't."

"Buffy…"

Buffy laid her finger against his mouth. "Shh. Don't let this get around since it would so no be good for my reputation, being the Slayer and all, but the biting thing—kinda hot." She grinned. "Okay, really hot."

Spike looked at her in awe. For the first time since his run in with the Initiative, he was grateful for the chip, knowing he wouldn't have ended up here without it. "You are one amazing woman, Buffy Summers."

Buffy smiled, cupping his cheek in her hand and pulling him in for a long, lazy kiss.

* * *

Joyce and Giles sat in the kitchen, staring at the table and trying to ignore the noises coming from the bedroom. "So, um, how is your head?" Giles asked.

"It's fine," Joyce replied. "Doesn't really hurt anymore."

"That's good."

An awkward silence filled the room, punctuated by the occasional moan or scream. "More eggnog?" Joyce asked.

"Please."

Joyce got up, walking to Giles to take his cup. Her hand brushed against his, and he looked up at her, his blue eyes suddenly dark. He stood, grabbing Joyce to him and kissing her, the cup shattering as it hit the ground.

Giles scooped Joyce up, carrying her off to the bedroom.

* * *

One more chapter to go… Leave me some reviews, please. Nice early Christmas present…

Thank you to everyone who had such kind things to say after the last chapter. They made me feel a lot better!

Also, in case anyone is wondering, the song Spike sings to Buffy is "Love You More" by the Buzzcocks.


	12. Chapter Twelve

Buffy walked out of the bedroom, a small smile on her face. Joyce came out of her own bedroom at almost the same time, glancing over at her daughter quickly with a look of nervousness Buffy didn't quite understand.

That is, until Giles walked out right behind her.

Buffy gaped. "What were you two doing?" she asked before her brain could tell her mouth that she really didn't want to know the answer to that particular question.

Joyce gave Buffy a smug grin. "Taking a Christmas nap."

"Oh my god! I can't…ew!"

Spike came out of the bedroom then, noticing the look of absolute horror on Buffy's face. "What's wrong, luv?"

She pointed to Joyce and Giles. "They were 'napping,'" she hissed.

Spike chuckled, kissing the top of her head. "Come on, lamb. Let's just go to the kitchen."

"But…but…emotionally scared for life here!"

"Buffy, what's that on your neck?"

As soon as the question was out of Joyce's mouth, Giles strode across the living room, pushing Buffy's hair to the side. His eyes flashed with anger, and he started towards Spike, only to have Buffy hold him back. "Giles, calm down!" Buffy said.

"Calm down! I know what those marks on your neck are. He bit you."

Buffy couldn't help but blush. "It was just a little bite. And it didn't hurt…"

"How can you be so bloody irresponsible about this! If he's biting you—which is in of itself a bad thing—then his chip isn't working. He's a killer again, Buffy!"

"Okay, first, I haven't killed a bloody thing since I got this chip." Spike frowned. "Well, expect some demons, but I didn't hear anyone complaining about that. And second…" He punched Giles in the face, clutching his head in pain right afterwards.

"What the bloody hell did you do that for?" Giles yelled, rubbing his face.

"Wanted to show the chip was still working," he said, his hand pressed against his temple.

Giles glared. "You could've been faking."

"Yes. And now I'm enjoying my nice, fake migraine. Berk."

Giles tensed, moving towards Spike but stopping when Joyce grabbed his shoulder. "Rupert, can I speak to you a moment. Alone?"

Giles glanced between Spike and Joyce. "Yes," he said with a sigh, following her back into the bedroom.

"I think we should just let them be."

"What!" Giles stared at her in disbelief. "Do you realize what just happened? A _vampire_ sank his fangs into your daughter's neck and drank her blood. How can you just dismiss that?"

"I'm not dismissing it, I just… I think it's something I'd rather not stick my nose in."

"And when Buffy's dead—or worse, turned—then what?"

Joyce rolled her eyes. "Rupert, really. For one thing, even if Spike _did_ want to hurt Buffy he couldn't."

"He bit her! That's hurting her, Joyce. That punch proved nothing."

"Buffy said the bite didn't hurt her. Being her mother, I really don't want to think about what it _did_ do, but that isn't the issue. I've seen him with her. I've seen him fight to protect her, risking his own life in the processes. I'll be honest. I really don't understand souls or demons or any of that, but I know the look of someone in love—and that's the look Spike has every time he sees Buffy. She's safe with him, Rupert. I can feel it. And if I want to try to ignore what my daughter and her vampire boyfriend are doing behind close doors, please, just let me. For the sake of my sanity."

"I just don't want to end up saying 'I told you so.'"

"I know. I don't want that either, but I also don't see that happening." She ran her thumb over the spot on his cheek where Spike had hit him, noticing that it hadn't bruised. "Let's just go back out and enjoy the rest of Christmas."

Giles sighed, knowing there was nothing he could do to convince either one of the Summers women that he was right about Spike. And as much as he hated to admit it, he was having a harder and harder time convincing himself. He'd seen Spike fight by Buffy's side, effectively making everything Giles had ever thought he knew about vampires blow up in his face.

Although when he thought about it, wasn't that just Spike in a nutshell? Giles had never seen the vampire play by any of the rules. Why would he start now?

"Yes, well, I believe I can do that."

Joyce kissed him softly. "Thank you."

* * *

Buffy sat on the couch with her head on Spike's shoulder and his arm around her, blissfully ignoring the fact that her mother and Giles were in much the same position on the other side of the sofa. She smiled at Spike's quiet toleration of _Mickey's Christmas Carol_ despite his muttered comment of "and they say _I'm_ evil" when she'd suggested it.

Just because she didn't hate him anymore didn't mean she had to pass up every opportunity that came her way to annoy him.

Spike pressed an almost absent-minded kiss into her hair, giving her arm a gentle squeeze as he did, and Buffy smiled, managing to move even closer to him. Despite his cool body, his touch sent a warmth through her, giving her a sense of peace and comfort. Right then, in that moment, she felt like she could belong there, in this man's arms.

Yes, Buffy decided with a smile, this had definitely been a good Christmas.

* * *

That's the end, folks. Hope you enjoyed it.

Thanks to everyone who read, and to all you wonderful reviewers. And an extra special thanks to GoldenAngl99 who nominated it in the Love Is Blood Awards!


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